I believe in the joy of doing nothing.
The second week of summer vacation is just about to wrap up. We’ve had lots of time to just hang out and loll around. I’ve not yelled as much as I normally do. I’ve laughed more. Mac Daddy might find this hard to believe because he only sees me at the nadir of my day. This summer our lives are less scheduled and more relaxed. We try to keep a sparse calendar because the true irony of child rearing is that the more filled your schedule is, the less fulfilled you are.
I believe in free time to laze about, read, snooze, bake cookies, color, make up games, and just chat. The boys have devised a rather ingenious game involving a skateboad, a tennis ball, and a flip flop worn on one hand. They also fold endless sheets of colorful origami paper into creatures, hearts, and boxes. It’s rather impressive. Often times you’ll find the boys and I perched on the couch, legs intertwined amongst each other, dog settled somewhere in the mix, and talking. We simply chat. We monkey around. We tell fart jokes. We talk in a stream of non sequiturs. Bird and Deal inevitably end up bickering, and the party breaks up, but for those few moments, we are one delightful mess of gabbing energy.
I’m vowing to drink in more of these moments. I made this silent promise to myself when summer began. Yes, I do lose my patience and yell. I become unreasonable. I whine. But I’m trying.