I have been engrossed in the side of my brain that allows for the living part of life but not too much thought, therefore I have been remiss on my writing. A friend in London commented that she hadn’t heard from me via this blog lately and wondered if I was giving myself enough time – Me Time – as she put it. No, is the answer. And I found it interesting, the same way one can mark the passing of time through the growth of a child, that I can mark whether or not I write this blog as having enough ‘me time’.
I have been through quite a lot, though, so guilt is not a factor here. A graduation – which was so touchy feely, so incredibly heart warming, wrapping each graduate in personalized cotton wool before sending them off I cried for three straight hours; a goodbye party for my little one who invited nearly his whole class round to swim on a moments notice in order to ease the transition; summer vacation beginning where four sets of eyes set upon me each day wanting to know the amazing planned activity I have in store for them; and finally my English family’s arrival to LA where the good times begin as they fill each spare bed in my house. Oh yeah, and it was my birthday, and anyone who knows me well knows I become Polish about my birthday and celebrate for at least a week.
We kicked off the beginning of this jacuzzi-infested season with one of my son’s requesting a hot tub hang out with his friends. From my vantage point, this is what happened…Early one Saturday morning he asked if he could have some friends come round for a swim and a hot tub. I said sure – this particular boy never asks for much – and so the apparent random list began with five boys names and, wait for it, five girls names. Trying not to act too surprised, chuffed or embarrassed, I dutifully called the boys and girls aged ten to come and hang out. As the door bell went later that day, I realized I knew none of the girl-moms and only a few of the boy moms. The boy moms dropped their sons off quickly and the girl moms lingered, smiling a bit and almost winking at me. Hmmm.
Turns out rumour went round that week that boy Hamm was having a date party in his jacuzzi Saturday night!!! The kids had been texting/emailing like crazy, especially the girls, and as my boy doesn’t have either devices, he was left unaware of the growing reputation of the evening. Girl moms were completely aware so I’m not sure how my innocence was read. I watched them all play tag and then the boys jumped into the pool fully clothed without a thought to anything other than ‘pooooool party!!!!’ The girls, however, were overheard (yes, my ear was completely pinned to the bathroom door) deciding which bathing suit to wear, how their hair should be, braided or down, and whether or not they should swim at all or just watch. Unbelievable. They are ten and yet the difference between boys and girls is like the difference between a rock concert and a ballet; both have music and that’s about it. We spent the best part of the following week squelching rumours of any misconduct. Guess I won’t be seeing any of those girl moms for a while!
At present, I sit, quietly in my office while the 27 other people in my house slumber, and I try and wake up the other part of my brain that creates things. There has got to be phases in my life to just live out all of the planned occasions, BE in the moment rather than comment on it. I find it incredible that just a month ago these monumental moments were in front of us all and I was scrambling to make sure that everyone was going to succeed through them all. And of course, they did, I did, and now we’re in the swing of summertime.
I’ve never been more ready for summer than Summer 2012. Let the games begin.
