Author Archives: KitKat

A Flash of Summer

I knew that I was a bit behind on my blogging, but was astonished to discover that my last post was in April… A whole summer had passed! A quarter of a year since I last logged in, yet I had thought I was only about a month behind on my writing. Actually, this summer has flown by in all aspects. Where did it all go? Next week my kids return to school. Usually, I am ready to push my kids out the door and back into a routine. Instead, this summer it feels like we were short changed by at least a month. The kids haven’t even yet started their ritual of bugging me, and each other, from too many days with no real structure.

I know I did plenty these past few months. And I actually have about four different blog topics started to document some of the activities that passed during this time. Though, I still have to prove it to Stormy who kept hearing me say, “I have something to write about this week.” Yet, nothing ever fully materialized past my initial jotted notes. I’d get distracted with a game of catch in the front yard, a neighbor beckoning me over for a glass of wine on the porch, or time commitments of baseball games replacing the winter hockey schedule. Then suddenly, with an uncompleted list of planned summer activities and several unfinished blog drafts sitting in my to-do pile, summer is wrapping up.

Is this the start of what my grandma warned me about? How time would speed up and pretty soon I’d be looking back wondering where all the years have gone?

Grandma still is the last one to leave a party!

Grandma still is the last one to leave a party!

This observation came from the same grandma who gave me and my friends lessons on how to best hold your drink and appetizer while still socializing at a party. So she has earned my trust in passing on truly valuable nuggets of wisdom.

I am hoping that it is just a strange happenstance versus getting older that caused the summer time warp. As you may remember from a past birthday blog of mine, I am not taking the whole aging process graciously. I am not quite ready for even more “attributes” of getting older, so time speeding up is exactly what I don’t need.

Whatever the reason, this summer cruised by way too fast. Reflecting back on these past months, I can only remember flashes of memories, rather than a good summer story.

  • It had its simple pleasures – cabin trips, moms-and-kids staycation, family visits, and lots of outdoor time with good friends.
Staycation travel: from GoCarts

Staycation travel: from GoCarts

To limos!

To limos!

  • It has had its downers – breast cancer scares, parent’s health issues, and helping a friend through some intense life decisions and changes.
  • It has had its celebrations – my favorite being Stormy’s joint 50th birthday/moving party (which included drunk dancing in her backyard and a text the next day asking if I had any recollection of how she broke her toe after too many drinks!)
  • It had its lessons learned – wiener dogs do bite, waterslides are fun, and if the pool at the club closes unexpectedly just pull out the baby pool, hose and Prosecco in the backyard.

I guess, overall, the summer has just been filled with living in the present. I took a break from wondering what is next. I have a habit of always trying to peek at the chapter ahead versus engrossing myself in the current story. Maybe creating this new way of living through one of my chapters is what also messed with my time perspective. (Again, trying to deny the aging theory.)

If I was summing up this chapter of my life, I would just say it was a relaxing time, enjoying simple things, and growing up a bit (not growing old!). I did purposely try to make some self improvements such as watching how I acted and reacted, taking deep breaths as needed, and making sure I did the things I thought were best for those I love (whether they realized it or not).

I wasn’t always successful at this new calm, “take-it-as-it-comes” self. Just this past Sunday while back-to-school shopping at Target, I had a random moment where my mind was surprisingly confronted again with how fast time really does go. How quickly life changes. I had to remind myself to breathe–there was a reason I was there at that moment–and to just focus. No regrets. No worrying what was missed. Trust that I am making the most of my time, even in those periods of time that seem to disappear in a blink.

My personality won’t lend itself to taking this mellow approach to life long term. I am already plotting my plans and goals with fall approaching. I am considering taking up playing on a mom’s hockey league. I have some lofty career aspirations I want to hit. Also, I have a personal physical goal that I hope will send some parts of me back in time. As time keeps passing and new life chapters unfold, I want to find the right mix of excitement and challenges while regularly adding in some contentment and just enjoying the present.  If my grandma’s warning is true about looking back and wondering where all the time has passed, I want to make sure I have filled the time with a vast collection of stories to look back on. I already have some wonderful ones to keep my old mind happy and as a good place to revisit.

My next chapter: The kids head back to school and I head to New York (a setting for several favorite memories already). Maybe saying goodbye to summer won’t so bad with an interest in finding out what is ahead.

photo-4

You never know exactly what will be next or what tale will unfold. That should be the fun part, the unknown. It makes the passage of time easier. At least that is what my Grandma told me over a recent  phone call. She also reminded me, “Growing old isn’t for sissies.”

Choose a Door

Well, it has been a while since my last entry. As Stormy posted on Facebook, “We’re just taking a ‘spring break’ from our blog.” It could be also described as a dry spell, but I like how she put a marketing spin on it.

There is a lot on my to-do-list that has been on hold lately. I seem to have lost some drive. I could blame it on kids, work or activities, but since hectic is my normal life my best guess is it is due to a lack of inspiration or just a temporary shut down. I even turned down going out on a Friday night to instead hang out in a quiet, childless house in my pajamas doing absolutely nothing. This is very unusual for me. I usually thrive on action and hate to miss out on any fun.

This inaction has my to-do-list rapidly growing, including some things which are now even months behind. To break this pattern, I have decided to force some action and just start ticking things off. Thank goodness for another Stormy Facebook post, “Interesting experiment… Which door would you pick?” that finally helped me get started. First item to complete: My next blog.

I think Dove has done many great campaigns. But #choosebeautiful Dove campaign is my favorite. I played it a few times, fascinated at the visual stories. As a mom, I loved–and understood–the woman pulling her daughter through the beautiful door. I would do the same thing. It made me smile at the friends who direct each other to go through “beautiful.” Again, I could picture each of my girlfriends and how I know they are meant for that door. I would make them go through it even if they were hesitant. It also was fascinating to hear why women picked a door and their feelings after. Interestingly, as watched, I never pushed myself to decide which door I would/should go through.

When I sent the video in a group email to my mom and sisters, my mom immediately wrote back stating she would hope that she, and all of us, would choose the beautiful door. Faced with the direct comment, I honestly couldn’t answer that I would. (By the way, my dear sisters, I did notice you totally avoided choosing in your commentary.)

I wish I could say that I would walk proudly through the beautiful door alone. But the reality is that facing the doors alone, I know for certain I would enter the normal door. Admittedly feeling shitty about it afterward, but still believing I went through the one best meant for me. I can’t point to an exact reason why. Believe me, I would love to announce to the world, and myself, that the beautiful door was mine. I even tried thinking about all the beautiful things about me, and why I deserve to walk through that door. I know logically it is the “right” door to pick. I understand the power of walking through that door. But I just can’t claim that door as mine.

Hard not to feel beautiful wrapped in cousin laughter and love.

Hard not to feel beautiful wrapped in cousin laughter and love.

With that said, I know surrounded by my girlfriends I would walk through it, as I would with my mom and sisters beside me. Not just to push them through it. Not because of peer pressure. Simply, because that is how I feel when I am with them.

Certain people make you a better version of your self. Or maybe it’s a reflection of how they see you. Or just the light they add to you when near.

I would like to think that someday (or just some days), I would automatically choose the beautiful door on my own. Not just because I know it’s the right image to show my daughter. And certainly not because I think anything is wrong with normal. I embrace my imperfections, crazies, and stumbles as an interesting and important part of who I am. But I do believe it is important to feel truly beautiful at least sometimes while standing alone. This is a place where I could use some growth.

Which brings me to another item on my to-do list, my vision board (as mentioned, I am months behind on some things). Maybe this year I will fill it with things that help me achieve personal moments of beautiful both inside and out.

Cheers to Dove for making me think and inspiring me back into action. What door would you choose?

Time for a Time-Out

If you haven’t guessed from my lack of blog writing (thank you Stormy for picking up the slack), I am a bit behind on things lately. Usually I am pretty good at keeping up with my overly scheduled life. In fact, I take pride in being able to manage a crazy work and home life while still finding some time to spend with friends and do things I personally enjoy. But right now I am ready for a time-out from everything.

My son's main identity for four months straight.

My son’s main identity for four months straight.

As a hockey parent, it is somewhat expected to feel this crazed right after the holidays. In addition to the normal five days a week, tournaments start and, whenever possible, surprise ice times are thrown in. (The coach’s email is always worded as if we won the lottery by getting even more time on the ice.)

This year, on top of hockey, a few more twists got thrown in. My job got repositioned to report directly to the CEO. This sounded like a positive transition until I realized that all I admired about her—including a constantly active mind—meant that I’d be waking up to email brain dumps each morning.

Plus, hockey isn’t our only activity anymore. My daughter is older and ready to pursue her own interests, so we have tacked on gymnastics. Then, my son thought it was a great idea to add basketball to his winter sports schedule. I did protest this terrible idea, but I only have so much energy left for battling with a middle school kid on a non-critical issue. My time-out for myself is letting him make his own mistakes. (I often am rereading the  Top 15 Things Your Middle School Kid Wishes You Knew to keep may sanity in this area, and to remember that (most likely) I don’t have an insane alien on my hands that I am letting flounder.

So, my life after work seems to be figuring out who needs to go where and what to feed them (that’s somewhat healthy) in the short time span we have between activities. Life on the weekends is even more chaotic with added chauffeur duties to multiple games and transporting everyone (but me) to meet up with friends.

This weekend, in addition to having almost every moment of the days booked, I also had three hours scheduled for both Friday and Saturday night for volunteer duty in the penalty box during a girls tournament. (Twelve volunteer hours beyond your own team obligations are required if you don’t want to write a big check at the end of the season.)

It was when my sister asked when I had an hour to meet that I realized that I really had no more time. The only opening was between 2:10 p.m. – 3:00 p.m., if we met down the street from gymnastics. I was not looking forward to this weekend at all.

During my drive on Friday night to the arena, I kept reminding myself that it was just one weekend and then I would have all of my volunteer hours in. I couldn’t remember my rationale for signing up to do it all in one weekend. It seemed like a bright idea the month before. In addition to not being thrilled to spend two weekend nights at a rink when I didn’t even have a son playing, I also was a bit nervous. I hadn’t done penalty box duty before. My son had given me a vague warning to not to mess it up, and I had never really paid attention to that job before. In the past, I had always worked at the concession stand. But as a parent of an older player, I now got the benefit of tips from more experienced parents, who told me penalty box duty is a way easier gig than concessions.

Checking in and heading to the ice, I found the penalty box not quite as small as it looked from the stands. It was actually a warm and comfortable space. As the game started, I also realized I had a great view of the game and was able to hear the scoop on what the coaches were yelling to players on the ice and instructing on as they came onto the bench. It was a different perspective. The few times there was a penalty, I had no worries about missing the clock countdown. The players were on it. One girl even reminded me that I needed to be ready in 20 seconds. I am sure they would have jumped over the gate if I was a second too slow.

Penalty box is considered the box of shame. You know you just left your team down a person and the players left have to cover you in addition to their own roles. (Though sometimes the penalty seems worth whatever the action stopped the other team from doing.) A few texts came through while I was “working.” My family was busy trying to figure out what to do, who could come over, and how to arrange rides between different morning games. I texted back, “I am in the box you will have to manage yourself.” I was finding that this penalty box time-out was worth avoiding the chaos of weekend planning that usually consumes Friday nights.

I sat back and enjoyed the game in my VIP seat by myself with the exception of an occasional player joining me for a minute and a half. It is always at the most surprising times when I find  a moment of bliss.

After three hours of doing nothing but opening a door a few times, I came home to a quiet house with everyone asleep or out. I poured myself a drink and started watching a marathon of Grey’s Anatomy Season Five. (I am a bit behind on everything!) Making my evening even better was knowing that I had another “time-out” to look forward to on Saturday night.

Hotel Lovefest to Ring in the Holidays

Now this could sound sexy and hot, but don’t forget I am a crazy over-scheduled working mom. My hotel fantasies consist of visions of a bed to myself, no one to tuck in, and room service dancing in my head. (This would cover  #22-24 on the “28 Gifts Every Mom Wants for the Holidays” that Stormy posted to our Facebook page. Stormy, I am still counting on you to deliver gift #28 in person before Christmas.)

Neither of the possible fantasies mentioned above happened. The reality of my recent hotel night was a lovefest of a completely different kind. There was a hotel involved, but the room was shared with my two sisters and the lovefest was filled with giggles, confidences and tears—the kind that only siblings (or girlfriends) can cram together in a just few hours.

The initial plan was for us all to escape our hectic lives and take a moment to really enjoy the holiday season. We would leisurely shop, have a delicious dinner, and retire to our room to watch “Love Actually” over a bottle of wine.

Then we’d wake up rested for breakfast and spend a full day helping each other cross off our holiday shopping lists. One comment that was continually repeated by each of us was how excited we were to be in a relaxing atmosphere with a time out from normal chores, family and work. We would be able to actually catch up on some much-needed rest.

Well, the first part of our outing went as planned, including heading up to the room at 9:30 p.m. We congratulated ourselves on being back in time to have our peaceful evening and not letting freedom con us into staying out and trying to enjoy the bar scene. It was while waiting for our room service that the evening plans took an unforeseen turn. Why not turn on a little music while we waited for our bottle of Pinot Grigio? A little Taylor Swift seemed harmless. But that was when the night took on a different course:

Yes, I know every word!

Yes, I know every word!

  • We danced and sang together. Current hits. ’80s rock. Country. (I did save them from hearing me belt out a heartfelt rendition of “Let It Go.”)
  • We decided to order a nightcap following our wine, which included a call to the bartender, instructing him on how to make our first drink. And, so we didn’t have to call again, to bring extra orders without ice. Can’t have the waiting drinks diluted!
  • We shared. Everything from giggling about bodily functions, memories that we each had different versions of, family dysfunction, to our secrets and fears.
  • We asked each other hard questions. Things we perceived or guessed by just knowing each other a little too well. Things no one else is brave enough to ask you.
  • An argument. What started as a heartfelt sharing, followed up by smart sisterly advice, turned into tears, hurt feelings and stubborn silence on both sides.
  • Ten minutes later a post-fight make up. Who besides a sister can you sit on and threaten disgusting things that will happen if they don’t give in and smile?
  • At some point a decision to sleep – last clock check was remembered at 2:30 a.m.

We woke up foggy headed but still laughing as we reminded each other of things we did and reminisced about our silly night. There was nothing any of us would change. We agreed even the fight added to the perfection of the night.

21 Reasons It's Awesome to have your Sister as Your Best Friend

21 Reasons It’s Awesome to have your Sister as Your Best Friend

So that sums up my hotel lovefest. How an evening of being completely uncensored and totally yourself can be so freeing. How much you love those people, deep to the core of you, with whom you can share that kind of night.

I left the Westin packed with unforgettable memories and true love.

 

Dear Other Two Moms:

The other night my daughter asked, “Were you happy I was your baby? Was I cute?” Granted, she probably suspected that this question would stall bedtime at least another fifteen minutes as I cuddled her and told her the story, again, about how it felt the first time I saw her. The vivid memory of sitting at the Eastern Orphanage in Korea anxiously waiting to meet my daughter. Finally, the counselor pointing to a woman walking in with the most beautiful baby girl on her back … “That is her.”

fish

They both are still surprised when a stranger can guess one of them is adopted. 🙂

I have told my daughter (by adoption) and my son (by birth) that there isn’t one of their stories about how I came to be their mother that is more special than the other. They are completely different stories, but both include joy; some pain points; worrisome moments; and the delivery of the most incredible gift, unimaginable love, and biggest responsibility of my life. (The toughest part comes in the work and exhaustion of raising them!)

With two children who came to me in very different ways, it is important to me that I celebrate and share with them their individual stories and how it makes them unique. One part of my daughter’s story that I have shared with her is how she has three different moms who each love her very much. This “mom circle” includes her birth mom, her foster mom and me (her mom). In fact, she was told this story from before she was old enough to even understand the words that I was saying. This story also led to her infamous self-introduction: At the age of four, we were at the first day of swimming lessons. A girl walked up to her and said, “Hi, I have a new purple suit.” My daughter responded, “Hi. I have three moms.”

So with the timing of National Adoption Month and soon to be her seventh birthday, I want to attempt to write a note to her other two moms whom I share with the great honor of this title. Since, I have no way to actually get a letter to them, I decided to blog it. Perhaps they will feel the energy of it. Or someday when we go back to Korea as a family, or if Chloe ever seeks them out, it can be shared. Or maybe, it is purely for me to know that I have recognized them and documented something in their honor. So, with that said, here I go.

love

Dear Other Two Moms:

First and foremost, I want both of you to know that you are and always will be important to both her and me. You are not forgotten.

Birth Mom, I didn’t know you at all except through a few forms from the orphanage that you filled out which shared some basic information about your life and the adoption decision you made. I haven’t read these to our daughter yet, but I will as she gets older.

Foster Mom, I did meet you. Our last day in Korea when you passed her to us for the final time and watching you say goodbye is etched in my mind. Our daughter loves to look at the photo album you sent with us that chronicles her nine months in your family. One of her favorite photos is of her 100-day celebration.

Secondly, if either of you ever do actually read this, please know it could never be enough or say enough to acknowledge and thank you for the sacrifices you both made that brought her to my life. So perhaps consider it more of a note in time with an update and a few facts about how she is doing.

braid

Rapunzel makes for a perfect braid model.

If our daughter was writing this, I am sure the first thing she would mention is “I can braid!” At the moment, it is what she sees as the most exciting, self-appointed goal she has reached. It has beat out the excitement of learning to read which happened around the same time. Her dolls, herself and me are always adorned with different braided hairdos. She would also be sure to mention that she is going to have a piñata at her birthday, is one of the fastest runners in her class and is also really good at the monkey bars.

Actually, she would go on and on and on. She talks a lot. There have been multiple times where she finally takes a breath and then notices, and comments, that I am not fully listening anymore. I have told her honestly that sometimes I can’t listen as long as she talks. She can wear me out.

Our daughter is beautiful. (I mentioned this in a past blog that I do work hard to make sure she is recognized for all her wonderful attributes beyond just this.) She is also smart, funny, and extremely flexible … freakishly flexible. She likes to sing and actually can hold a tune. (She wouldn’t get that from my genes). She has lots of friends and is a bit of a tomboy. Though she prefers sparkles and dresses when she races her brother and his friends.

cute

She also has attitude.

She does like to tattle. Her flair for the drama can cause the tiniest touch from her brother to create the loudest wail from her. (Though granted, half of the times the wails are well founded and caused from more than a touch). They have bonded as siblings in the truest form. It is a love/hate relationship. But no one better mess with her but him!

I am working with her on not lying to get out of trouble. “You saw me wrong” or “You heard me wrong” is her usual defense. She does not like anyone to be angry with her. Though it doesn’t stop her from doing things that may make us angry. When she is in trouble, it is usually turned around on us and we are told how we hurt her feelings by being mad.

korea friend

She goes to Korean camp with her friend who we first met in Korea.

She dresses herself in crazy, unmatched outfits and gets really sad if you suggest she or her outfit is anything but super cute. She loves Littlest Pet Shop but is “not that into” Hello Kitty anymore. She is proud of being Korean and loves to make and eat Be Bim Bop and Japchae. And, there is nothing quite like being caught up in one of her laughing attacks.

There are many moments in my life with her during which I think of you both. I want to know more about the stories behind the photos we look at together. I often reread the adoption forms hoping to catch something that I missed last time. When I am filling out her medical forms, I want to ask you about her family history or if she had the same reaction to colds when she was a baby. Sometimes, I just want to ask you both to tell me, in your own words, how you made such brave and selfless choices. One of you to give her a life you couldn’t provide and one of you to make sure she was cared for and loved till we would arrive. Both of you having to say goodbye to her. Once in awhile laying in her bed, I close my eyes and wish I could show you how she is doing and hopefully you would feel proud or content in the choices you made and the path you provided her. If nothing else, make you giggle hearing some of her perspectives and comments.

I am not a perfect mom but I love her. I want you to know that you both helped to create an incredible girl. I also want you to know there is no way to be eloquent enough to express all that I would like, nor anyway me to be able to cover the full spectrum of all that is her.

Thank you both for making the decisions you did which provided me the opportunity to be one of the three moms blessed to play a part in her life. I hope she gains strength by having received all of our love different ways and carries it with her always. Please know, I don’t take it for granted that I am the one who received the most with her as a constant in my life, thanks to both of you.

As I tell her every night, I love you to the moon and back.

Forever,

The Third Mom

Looking for a happy pill

I am sad. Why? No particular reason. At least none that I can directly point to. I am not even sure if “sad” is the right word. Wistful, blue, blah, wishful, lacking … all I know is don’t call it mad. That is what had me walking out of the house the other night.

I can’t say what set me off. Perhaps my hope, or need, for a fun family dinner to dispel the dark mood cloud I felt settling in. A dinner that instead had my son angrily sticking up for, or throwing a tantrum about, Adrian Peterson. “It’s just what they do in Texas,” (said the boy who may have had four spanks/light swats EVER which left me as the only one hurt, due to my guilt over losing my temper). His only motivation was 11-year -old warped thinking that if he argued his point, miraculously the Vikings would have their star back and win again. Or maybe it was my daughter, who left the table ten times to look at her wiggly tooth (her first one). And then there was my husband who just didn’t pay attention to any of us. I wanted laughter, smiles and talk – a distraction from my looming mood. Basically, a pretend TV family. That was not happening.

Click to watch my version of fun family dinner

Click to watch my TV version of family dinnerblack-play-button

I was craving having a feeling – and not the kind of feelings I have been having lately.

I’ve been busy worrying about family members: Breast cancer, undiagnosed but life-affecting illnesses, and a liver laceration (of a child who might as well be family – our kids call each other cousins).

I have also been feeling stressed: busy working at a crazy pace with insane RFP responses added to my already over-packed job (and they’re not a marketing favorite), branding and marketing a friend’s new hair salon, and exploring a little side business idea.

Add on to that, dealing with raising a middle schooler and his Jekyll and Hyde emotions.

Maybe my need for the “right” feeling was brought to the surface from the heartbreaking tragedy of a school mom who died in her sleep a few days before. Maybe that is what kicked up the dust, woke me up in the midst of being lost in the hecticness, and made me want to feel something special. Or, perhaps it was just plain and simple craziness. Or it could be my hormones. (I have hit the age where I can blame them for everything). All I know is I needed to laugh. I needed to feel pure joy. I needed to enjoy. I was needing one of those moments of bliss like girls’ night at the cabin, sisters drinking wine on a Sunday, or dancing would give me. I’d had a taste of it recently – a couple of hours with my stepmom and sister just laughing in the kitchen together. But I needed more of that silly stuff that makes the rest of it all worthwhile.

With dinner not going as planned, and my family not giving me what I needed (admittedly it was a losing battle for them before it started), I got distant. Annoyed. Bummed. Resentful. I can’t tell you exactly where it escalated, but basically the words “I can’t do anything without you getting mad. Nothing I do is right,” were the final words muttered to me that set me off. I stood up and left the house without a word.

I walked and walked. I tried to sort through what was wrong. I just knew I was missing something. I stopped and had ice cream. (That helped a little – simple pleasures). Then I walked some more. My head was reeling with how to fix it.

Nothing came and two hours later I went back. My daughter was still wiggling her tooth in a mirror. The guys were each on a couch (squishing my pillows!) and I walked upstairs without saying a word and went to bed. My drama basically unnoticed by anyone else.

Nothing like starting a day a few bucks richer

Nothing like starting a day a few bucks richer

It’s a new day – starting with the announcement of a missing tooth. “This is such an exciting day!” squealed my six year old. Decidedly a new attitude was needed from me too. So along with my Daily Love dosage, I added on another cheesy self-love prescription and decided to take the advice to write three things I am thankful for today.

  1. I am thankful for the smile from my beautiful daughter with her first tooth missing.
  2. I am thankful for reading that my son did notice I was upset and texted “you ok? coming home? love you.”
  3. I am thankful for all of the special people who have made me smile and laugh in so many different and wonderful ways, that I miss it when I am down.
A moment of bliss in NY with my special people

A moment of bliss in NY with a couple of my special people

Damn, this stuff works. I am smiling at the flood of fabulous memories. I found a natural happy pill. And I’m not crazy – I just like to smile.

Summer Checklist

Well if you had any clue from my lack of recent blogs, summer so far hasn’t been as relaxing as I imagined. My fantasies of taking advantage of the long, sunny days … or at least nights after work … were quickly ended by what it really means to have kids running “free range.” School activities, hockey, and homework were swapped for random camp times, baseball, and kid swaps in my work parking lot for play dates. Add in random sitter issues (saved one week by Stormy’s daughter, Blossom), and summer has turned out to be more chaotic than the school year.

Granted, I could have signed my kids up for a full-time day camp catering to working parents. But, my working mom guilt often gets the best of me. Why shouldn’t they enjoy these summer months of freedom? I sure miss having a summer break!

So what my kids would describe as a fun summer filled with sleepovers and

photo 2

sleeping in, has been mass chaos for me. No routine and every week requires a new battle strategy of who to get where and when. My tipping point was last week. A situation where I knew (standing in the bushes in my heels), that I needed some summer enjoyment too.

How did I end up in the bushes? It was my week as a camp driver. We only signed up for “specialty camps,” which means camps kids like but which have no convenience or scheduling around a working parent’s needs. (I will need to do another blog on why everyone else gets what they want, yet I seem to starve myself from all my needs. Even the eyelashes are gone!) Anyway, this week of specialty camp I worked from home in the morning and then took a group of kids to tennis before heading into the office at noon. (I have no idea how parents manage it without a flexible work schedule). One morning I had a conference call for an important pitch. I told the kids that I would be giving hand signals when it was time to be sprayed with sunscreen, grab their racquets and bags, and head to the car. I was proud of myself for organizing it all, including having lunches packed and backpacks lined up in front of the door before the call. The first ten minutes went great. The kids were quiet … which should have been my first warning of upcoming disaster. As I was talking, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see my daughter mouthing “sorry” and pointing at the window. Somehow she had knocked out the boards bracing our window air conditioner unit. I was looking at a gap in the window and the air conditioner rocking on the ledge. Throwing the phone on mute, I ran outside. The rest of my call was done on speaker and muted unless I was forced to speak. I stood in the bushes holding up the air conditioner with my phone resting on the window ledge and my other hand trying to jimmy rig the boards to hold the unit in place till we could do a permanent fix after work.

That night, I realized I have been so busy juggling a full-time job and kids running loose that I basically missed the first half of summer. Our “no routine” had us crazier than our over-scheduled winter. It was time to make up for the lost summer. Which meant another list! Yes, my kids groaned as I asked them to make lists of what they wanted to do before summer ended. I was determined to do at least one thing on each list this weekend. KitKat determination took hold. No matter what it took or what hurdles needed to be jumped, I would do some summer activities. I do realize that I work best in chaos and a crunch, even when the task is finding time to relax.

photo 1Number one on my son’s list was to catch fish. So we drove up to the cabin Saturday morning and spent the day fishing. The fish even complied with our list, and we had a great day. One item done and I actually relaxed. Hard not to, with a pole in one hand and wine in the other, plus a son who would bait my hook and take off any catches.

I had decided to drive back that night with my daughter, so we could check an item off her list on Sunday. We left father and son at the cabin for a full fishing weekend.

I skipped past number one on her list, Chuck E. Cheese, and chose one further down—which was shopping at the farmers’ market. We had a slumber party in my room Saturday night and in the morning I surprised her with money for the excursion. She made sure to spend every penny. She loves nothing better than to pull out cash and pay for a frivolous item. After a summer of giving up things or putting them on the back burner (well, trying), I had just as much fun buying whatever suited me at the moment.

photo 3

All in all, it was a jam-packed SUMMER weekend. I ended it sitting outside and watching my daughter and neighbor kids on the Slip & Slide as I looked up things to do in Duluth for a moms and sons trip planned at the end of August (another check off the list). I still had cleaning to do and hadn’t finished my list of dinners for the week but was determined to take a moment to do nothing but enjoy the weather (another item on my list), which I plan to make time for at least once a week.

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the blue sky, is by no means waste of time.” – Sir John Lubbock

After fully enjoying my summer weekend, I think I am ready to battle another summer workweek. Including managing the text I just received that my sitter has two days she can’t cover.