There were so many things jammed into today: early morning interviews for a piece I am writing about Flashes of Hope, alignments on other work things, lunch at Webers, school supply shopping, rowing, the Harry Potter Experience at the Franklin Institute and then in really, really BIG news, we cleaned out the art closet.
I should have taken a before picture, because the scene of it was horrendous. The only people outside of the family who know the true horror are our cleaning ladies and we pay them for their silence. Anyway, there is nothing more to see here, because we cleaned it out!
I was so proud of my kids for taking on the task and in particular, Lily, who lead the crew. I know this doesn't sound like a huge thing; but it is hard to work together with your siblings to do a miserable task. I told Lily I was proud of her leadership and she started crying.
She was not crying out of humility and joy that her beloved mother gave her a compliment, but because, she explained, she was stressed out by the fast pace of the end of summer.
And then, I cried, because this girl truly loves being with us and hates endings and then loosely indicated that she wanted to stay home one day to clean more (However, I do think by "clean more" she means laze about complaining about her family).
Lily is right, the pace of the end of summer is fast and busy and packed. We are fitting in the last days of pool and day trips and traditions and adventures and the beach, while also getting ready to start a brand new year of sports and dance and school and experiences. And this is all while seeing very clearly that Lily's on the cusp of adulthood and summers will change. It is like packing for a trip while you are currently away: it's truly impossible and you just have to have faith that your credit card will hold up to all the Target runs.
(Note: my husband would argue that I should say have faith that you have budgeted correctly. However, this is not a financial blog and I WILL NOT use the word budget here, lest someone thinks I am giving out financial advice. Note to note: never take financial advice from me.)
In these parenting moments, I often feel I am being called upon to offer some proverb or wisdom. All I could offer her was a seat in a quiet room, the instruction to breathe and the assurance that she'd have plenty of time on Thursday to "clean more."
Comments
Post a Comment