wilted rose and tender sunshine


i have started to count the days until school starts and not because i am looking forward to it but because i am trying to hold on to the days i have left in freedom with my children. . .

when summer started i wrote a blog about my mood (bad), my kids moods (crazy) and just how chaotic it all feels when summer first starts, i didn’t post it. today as i sat counting the days until the start of school, and wishing it was a bit longer, i stumbled upon the draft and couldn’t help but laugh. it’s amazing how a few weeks of uninterrupted, unscheduled chaos can begin to feel normal and comfortable. i am glad we all decided to blossom this summer and embrace the lazy days and summer heat.

mostly, this post serves as a reminder, to me, to prepare emotionally for summer relaxation, to prepare to accept the chaos that the lazy days of summer hold for us. i might be crazy, but when i accept the disorganization of summer i think i find more connection with my children. margaret j wheatley is one of my favorite authors and she writes all about organized chaos. she writes: “our seemingly separate lives become meaningful as we discover how necessary we are to each other”. as our separate kid/adult worlds collide at the start of summer, as we look for ways to fill our days, as we let go of the need to be organized and orderly. . .we find each other in a brand new way.

i am glad i saved this draft and stumbled upon it today, i really learned something. . .i will prepare next year so i can enjoy the start of summer as much as i am enjoying the middle.

so, here it is:

the past two days have been a roller coaster – and not in the way i like. i love real roller coasters; the twist and turns, feeling light headed before and after the ride, experiencing exhilaration from pure excitement and fear…yes, i love roller coasters. but in life, some feeling of stability gets me through each day. the feeling of predictability makes the chaos of children and life feel invited.

as the last day of school beckoned, i excitedly anticipated its arrival. i love summer. i loved summer as a kid because i grew up in california where summer meant days of ocean swept hair, nights of sandy showers and a few months of nothing but sunshine and freedom. i love summer now because it means swim team days, pool bound afternoons, evenings of wine, basketball, waterskiing and anything that can be done outside. i love watching my children in the sunshine and feeling no need to be anywhere any time soon.

oh. . .what is our (really i should own that it is my) problem? why the crabby, whiney, needy attitudes and to be completely honest. . .why the sudden urge for camp?

ok, ok, i know. . .no organization, no predictability. we are all crying out for someone to tell us where to be and when. deep breath. . .i have nowhere to be BUT: in the garden, organizing the kids t-shirt drawers, cleaning out the garage, doing laundry. . .when will i have time with the kids home ALL day? breath. . .i need to remember what i love about summer: no schedule, nowhere to be, nothing that needs my attention but my garden, my tennis game and my ever growing (soon to be annoyed by my presence) beautiful boys.

i tried today to be mellow, i tried to love the fancy free day. i failed. i failed miserably. i yelled. i felt unsettled. i made everyone feel chaotic. i even went to yoga to calm my mind, (oh. . .my head is hanging low) it didn’t work today.

i looked down at my shoes tonight. the shoes i wore today were my favorites: the most beautiful pair of sandals with a delicate rose on the top. my shoes did not match my mood, i was not beautiful and i was not delicate. it’s sad, but it is true.

tonight, i put my kids to bed and they hugged and kissed me with love and that mellow delicacy i was striving for in myself today. they smiled and whispered “i love you mom”. they do not see that i have failed, they see summer. they see a swim meet tomorrow and a pool day after that, they see that i gathered myself enough tonight to laugh with them at dinner, play a bit of basketball (i kicked their adorable little behinds, btw) and wrap my arms tightly around them before bed.

they are that delicate rose on top of my shoe: after a storm, a bit of tender sunshine and warmth makes them blossom all over again.

i think i will wear those shoes again tomorrow but tomorrow i will be better (ok, i am not making any promises).

beautiful rose shoes: shoes that shine in the sunshine but are allowed to wither under the pressure of heat, stress and a demand to be beautiful. a rose (just like a mom) is a delicate flower that needs attention, love and even a dose of rain and clouds from time to time. i will forgive my roses when they wilt. i will forgive my roses when they wilt. i will forgive my roses when they wilt. i too will forgive myself and i will replenish my wilted roses with a healthy dose of dedication to my body, mind and spirit. . .

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3 Responses to wilted rose and tender sunshine

  1. JJ says:

    This one really brought a tear to my eye and made me remember to enjoy these fleeting moments. Thank you for posting this one! I really needed it!!

  2. RSN says:

    boy, I miss you…and those boys. totally hung my head and welled up with tears reading this. I’ve been stuck in this craziness of “no schedule” and today was a one heck of a day. thanks for putting words to it. tomorrow, I’m wearing my cute shoes again too 🙂

  3. ah this made me a bit teary, ehat a gorgeous way you have of telling a story!

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