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Writings on Motherhood, Judaism, and Happily-Ever-Afters

Sundays and Summer

It’s first thing in the morning, and the birds and I are the only ones up. I like mornings like this, when the whole day is stretching out in front of me, and it appears as though I’ve got all the time in the world to get everything done. So much of the time, lately, I feel overwhelmed and rushed, pressured and stressed and BUSY. And even though today promises to be just as jam packed with activities – I’ve got shop for a birthday present for a party later this afternoon, hit two birthday parties between noon and three thirty, and then I think I volunteered to work at the Day of Play at Elm Park after that. Somewhere in there, I have to make 24 cupcakes for Sammy’s end of the year celebration tomorrow, and bathe all three kids, feed them, and shove them into bed early enough to make up for letting them stay up late last night with us watching Big Bang Theory reruns.

But for right now, things are calm. The laundry is running, the dishwasher is ready to go, I’ve got a hot cup of coffee and Julie is just starting to stir.

Summer is beckoning, I can feel it waiting for us. Long, quiet mornings, when everyone can sleep as late as they want and there’s no rush, rush, rush in the mornings. Barefoot days, when the kids live in bathing suits, sundresses and shorts. Days when I can wander to the park with the kids, up to visit my aunt in NH, cousin in Marlboro, or my parents down in Clinton. Playdates and trips to the pool, camping and popsicles, playing in the sprinkler and waiting for the ice cream truck. Nights spent watching the stars, fires at my parent’s house, roasting marshmallows and then bundling tired kids into the car for the ride home. I love summer.

My baby isn’t a baby anymore and my Jessie is still a little girl. Sam is going to be seven, which still blows my mind. I don’t have very many summers like this left. Next year, they’ll be eleven, eight and four. How much longer will Jessica be willing to have me direct her activities? How much longer do I have before Julie starts clamoring to go to summer camp?

So I’m relishing this morning, I’m sipping my coffee a little slower, and trying hard to pay attention to what’s going on around me. Because I know all too well how fast it goes, and how much I’ll miss it when it’s over.

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