Summer had looked daunting. I have two hands and three kids and sadly only one brain. The endless hot summer days and even more endless conversation, almost constant activity and a nearly walking toddler, along with a mostly MIA husband (new job, high demands) meant I had to really manage my time to be able to keep working for June and most nights would have me asleep mid sentence, mouth open. Yes, very graceful I admit. No wonder he loves me so madly.
But today, summer is “officially” over, its overcast outside, cool August wind blowing and it feels like the perfect time to indulge in some kid-love, even more so since one is napping and the other two have gone back to school today. I was telling k just yesterday that parenting ought to be a condition, and if it was it would be a bit like bi polarity or schizophenia because most of the time, you are feeling two (usually extreme) sets of emotions at one time. Neither make sense, both are disorienting and honestly, I don;t think there is a cure. Just a way you have to learn to manage. And manage we did.
How is it that when you look back it all seems so fast? And when you look forward it all seems to crawl? Is our sense of nostalgia somehow more potent than our sense of anticipation? I am looking back to just the summer and already it has taken on a nice creamy Instagram filter (Gingham maybe, or Crema) and I am feeling all happysad at their lives now having taken off, to some measure without me. Mind you, it was something I wished for on an almost hourly basis when they were stuck to my face for 2 months. But like Dory, I too clearly suffer from short-term memory loss.
Someone once in a sweet tone but clearly making fun of me way asked me why I am so arty crafty where my kids and writing and posting about them in concerned. “Do you always have art stuff/ paper and pen ready?” she giggled, somewhat insinuating that there are far more important things in life to do. Which of course, there may well be. Although I didn’t answer at that point (nothing too convincing anyway), after that each time I design something for the kids, take an insta pic or write about something funny L said or something creative N made, I make oddly defensive arguments in my head. Something along the lines of it’s a curse of the trade or that this is what I was trained to do. Lame, yes but best to be prepared for the next time, don’t you think?
So as we got ready to walk down the stairs to school today, I grabbed a few pieces of chalk lying around because I suddenly decided I wanted to mark their first day with “something fun”. Kids are really daft aren’t they? They find oddball things so exciting. And suddenly there was all this chatter over what to write, colours, doodles. N didn’t want a heart but L did and Z just wanted to eat the chalk. I admit it creates chaos, I also admit I love that. As someone who doesn’t really subscribe to a parenting technique as such ( I hear they have proper names now for methods to follow- quite cool) I want to be remembered as someone fun to them. Someone who made the ordinary a tad bit lighter and brighter. And if we are smart about it, we get to make that choice everyday don’t we?
I have so many things I wanted to say to them today about the new year, new beginnings, kindness, doing their best – all well worn comfortable ciches, stuff they probably wouldn’t even take in in their hoppy excitement of new bags fun times and a whole day of friends. I know I don’t remember a single thing my mom may have said to me at this point. I just remember a feeling, a celebratory feeling in the shape of smiling morning tikyas or good music on the way to school and with my chalky message, I am hoping to pass some of that onto them. To a new year ahead.
(And as always when I think of school, a small prayer for those APS kids and their parents for whom this day is forever different and all other children everywhere who don’t have this opportunity- may this year bring you better, happier times)