Summer 2013. We’ve been unmistakenly waterside this whole summer. Starting with the Pacific Ocean surrounding us in Kauai, to the Thames River, the North Sea on the British East coast, the Atlantic shores of New York and now here, on the Pacific West coast of Vancouver. It’s been a priviledge to have all of these visuals to put in my memory bank.
We went to Science World today – the most insane interactive Science museum we have ever been in – and there was this machine where two of you sit on opposite ends and place some elctron/metal things to your forehead which reads your brain activity and the object of the machine game was whichever brain was more relaxed, the ball in the middle of the two of you would roll to the other person, and you would win.
My boys were obsessed with this machine and so I sat there giving each of them a go to beat me. My son finally asked, “What are you thinking of that is relaxing your mind so much?” And it was easy. The waters of the summer.
There is so much endless chaos in my life and these weeks of discovering a different family rhythm, together, not living in parallel with each other’s schedules, but sharing a common one again has been deeply fulfilling. I love it; the boys love it, and even Husband finds solace in us surrounding him during his Skype conference calls with the UK. It’s hilarious watching my little one scramble under his feet so as not to be seen in order to get his ‘guy’ from under the table.
The level of activity with the boys is tremendous; their energy and desire to scramble, kick, grab, punch, climb, hit, run, skate, swim…leaves me breathless. I sometimes wonder what other girls or women would want to do in an afternoon and if it’s just me who wants to sit more than run, watch more than participate.
We go into a restaurant, a nice one, for dinner, and their level of activity doesn’t really change. My first thought is ‘please don’t hit each other, play fight or throw anything across the table’. It’s not that they aren’t well behaved and savvy at how to fine dine, but their instincts are all boy and the swirling energy they share can escalate in one-point-two nano seconds to a full blown tornado with silverware and glasses torpedoing everywhere.
“Which restaurant do we hate the most” is often a quote from Husband before deciding where we are going to eat that night. It’s a joke, of course, but potential destruction is never totally far off. I romanticize every time we go out that we will chat together and laugh and sit and wait patiently for our food. What usually happens is I give my Evil Eye from the moment we sit down and grab the bread basket after they’ve attacked it before the waitress can even set it down properly. My little one starts quoting SouthPark which I know puts me in that shameful mother category and I down my first glass of wine like it’s medicinal.
But we have had some great evenings this summer with food. Mostly when the equilibrium between hunger, tiredness and brotherly love is at its most zen. And for a moment in time, sitting at the table is relaxing, and a chosen activity. And I have learned…even eating dinner according to the Book of Boys is an active-ity.
