I’m trying to think of all the cute and wonderful things my girls have done lately because there have been a few times when I thought, I really should blog about this so people know that my girls really are wonderful human beings under all that estrogen and mud and stuff. They are. One has learned how to mow the yard and the power of money in one’s pocket.
Then there’s the one who keeps reminding me that there are “only” 26 days of school left. That doesn’t give me much time to figure out what my girls are doing this summer. There’s band camp, two words I cannot say outloud or to myself without remembering American Pie–an audio image that makes me cringe when I think of sending my young girls out into the world. And then there’s…. what? The older two are really too old for your typical babysitter, and yet they need someone to steer them in the right direction. And the younger one could–and may–live at the neighbor’s house all summer long, but I know I would miss her terribly. Really. I would. She smells pretty funky, but I love her nonetheless.
Right now, one is gone, one is reading the paper, and the other is humming softly (albeit atonely) while messing around on the computer. I love them all intensely right now. It is the kind of moment in which a screenwriter would prompt the actor to ruffle the hair of the children present. Me? I’ll just sit over here in my corner and sink myself deeply into this moment where the world seems to have leveled out.
And I’m really needing this moment right now. The weekend was crazy busy including sending one child out of state for a birthday party, a mommy-daughter date with another child, a daddy-all-the-daughters breakfast date, a mommy-daddy window-shopping for flooring, lighting, and furniture date (make that two), a funeral visitation, commitment Sunday at our church which I did not attend as my worship co-chair and I did not one but TWO Sunday sermons at another church (and for money, I might add). Oh, and there was the piano recital for the girls, too.
But what weighs heavy is the death of someone who had been attending our church regularly. It is not a good story and not mine to share, but I am still considering it over and over.
And now my quiet moment is over. Time to pick a child up from her afterschool, TV Turnoff week event. And she’ll come home and turn on the tv, I bet. Ah well. It goes on, doesn’t? Life I mean. It goes on?
P.S. She didn’t turn on the TV. Good girl. And, surprise surprise, it wasn’t already on, either.