Finally, summer vacation is here.
As the school year was drawing to a close, That Girl was very ready for summer holidays. On top of the angst of personal conflicts with “friends” in her class, which had her stressed and worried a lot of the time, the last few weeks of school has been very busy. They’ve been having Sports Days and field trips and graduations and presentations… and she is tired.
Her relief at the end of school was palpable. Her first statement about being off was “now I can sleep as long as I want, and you won’t wake me up in the morning. Right?”
It’s been busy for me as well, sherpa-ing Herself here and there to speech therapy and occupational therapy and field trips and swimming lessons, as well as getting my own things done before the end of school. I crammed in some appointments for myself, like with the doctor, where it’s not necessarily advantageous to have a six-year-old kibitzing on whatever’s going on.
But now. NOW we are on vacation.
Aside from continuing our weekly therapists’ appointments (in some fashion, given holidays and such), we are free to do as we please for two months. And today, we both breathed a sigh of relief. What shall we do?
We made banana bread. Did some laundry and dishes. Bought a few groceries. I’ll do some work. She’ll play with her rainbow loom.
And soon, we’ll fall into some semblance of a routine. We’ll start our homeschooling schedule, working through calendars and numbers and reading and printing. We will go to the library. We’ll swim in the pool. We’ll go to the schoolyard to ride her bike or her plasma car. We’ll go to the park.
There is lots to do. We have gardening and painting and housework and home improvement projects. There’s knitting and sewing and crafts.
And cooking. We’ll be cooking again. Because FOR SERIOUS AND REALLY NOW, we need to fix our eating and our health. Despite my newfound exercise regime and getting fit and healthy, my visit to the doctor was depressing and demoralizing and I have been told to make changes (some of which I’m all “Yeah… NO” because although I like my new doctor, I find some of what she says with regard to food highly suspect.) But still, some changes are necessary.
More importantly and urgently on this front, BDH has been quite ill with some sort of gastrointestinal complaint. Remember when I went to the hospital when my liver pitched a hissy fit? Yeah, he’s got something like that going on, only they can’t seem to figure out what it is. So we need to start cooking and eating accordingly.
But I like cooking. So I am okay with that.
And, around here, it is now summer with a vengeance. In southern Ontario that means endless, stifling humidity. Right now, at 1 pm, the humidex is only at 36 degrees. It still has a long way to go today. So we are inside the air-conditioned comfort, looking for amusements — and likely we will be quite often this summer — but the need to stay indoors also lends itself to the feeling of being on vacation.
Nowhere to go, nothing pressing to do.
And for me, I can finally get back to posting after the madness of June, and do some work, and start feeling like organized, happy Mom again, instead of tired, stressed, worried, snappish Mom. Our schedule is mostly our own, give or take, and for two months we can enjoy whatever we please.
Even the work around the house. Cleaning the bathroom, folding the laundry, vacuuming the basement — it’s my choice to do it, and when. No schedule to keep to; no plans to keep. I gardened in the early morning yesterday, with the oppressive humidity causing sweat to fall from my head like rain onto the garden I was working on. It was horrible. And it was great, because it was my choice to do, and it was satisfying to finish.
Today I might make beanbags. Or print and laminate calendars. Or do yoga. OR ALL OF THE ABOVE.
I’m just crazy enough to do it, too.
Mostly, though, I’m hanging with the girl-child, making sandwiches and watching cartoons and tidying up. Because we’re on vacation, and before we start getting into all the things we want to do this summer — which, because we like routine and planning, will become a whirlwind soon enough — we’re going to take a moment to just breathe.
That Girl and I haven’t had enough time to just enjoy each other’s company and laugh and be pals in awhile. It’s time.