The other night, I sat on my porch and watched Isabella being Isabella.
She was in pajamas even though it was only about 6:30, and was holding a lollipop, jumping rope, while chasing a butterfly across our front lawn.
Sure our weather felt nothing like summer and we wore hoodies and raincoats for the majority of the last three months, and I worked my way through the entire thing, but summer. Everything just slows down in the summer.
We toss out bedtimes and reading logs (thank god) and homework folders. We stay up late and get up early, with the sun. We read because we love it, because there are beautiful words out there that are begging to be read.
We breathe more. Slowly, and more. We stargaze. We eat al fresco, and BBQ more, and fill out plates with food we have grown with our hands. We have meatfests with relatives. We squeeze 8 people in a tiny, tiny booth so we can have pre-going-back-to-school, post-long-long-weekend drinks.
We get together with friends and stretch our legs as we explore our lovely city.
We ride rollercoasters. We bike ride and make elaborate chalk drawings. We swim in friends’ pools and have more sleepovers. We eat ice cream. We run and don’t stop.
We step out of our comfort zone in this dress.
We wear flip flops.
We love summer.
I was worried that Isabella — and the rest of us — were going to have a hard time adjusting to Not Summer.
They were up early, dressed themselves, ate full homemade pancake breakfasts, and helped pack their lunches, and left the house with smiles on their faces and backpacks filled with new folders and binders and notebooks.
They came home after having great days with good teachers and awesome friends.
I AM SO EXCITED I GET TO HAVE A LOCKER *AND* A LOCKER BUDDY, MAMA!
It’s not a jump rope and lollipop, but there seems to be lots to love about Not Summer too.
She’s not all that happy about the bedtime thing, though.
And reading logs. UGH READING LOGS.
Also, can we keep the pumpkin away for just a little bit longer please?