Summer Days

I sometimes share some photos of a view from behind the shop on the shop blog, but of course my life is actually mostly consumed with babies. I think I spent the majority of my life thinking I would probably end up with kids, but with a lot of anxiety and doubt as to what sort of mama I would turn out to be, and whether or not maternal love would be manufactured or conjured up through the ether upon the arrival of baby.

While many (most?) days I run low on patience and organization and arrive to swimming lessons late and text Jon to pick up dinner on his way home, this is, I think, one of the sweetest seasons of life – when the babies are heavy and warm and wrap arms around your neck and gurgle and babble and are also learning to say funny things. And so I’m trying my best to sit with it all and just enjoy all the squeezes while I can get them.

Even though today Caleb seemed to get in a lot of trouble (pretending to squeeze the ketchup with the lid closed while not realizing ketchup was leaking out the side onto the floor, leaving a trail; pretending Super is his horse, and leading his “horse” around on a leash, and then not watching as his “horse” eat snacks off the couch, making a mess; helping to clean up by removing a shelf from the bookshelf, and then swinging it around and leaving a hole in the drywall), I want to enjoy my babies, this last summer before Caleb starts kindergarten. I want these hot, sweaty, salty days to drift past me as slowly as possible, waking up from long afternoon naps, hanging laundry outside in the sun, inhaling entire watermelons.

Other than the babies, and getting the studio shop up and running (or not, as the case may very well turn out to be), I’ve also been reading lots. Reading and writing are tied so closely together – how could you do one without the other? – and the rush of words feels comfortable and necessary these days.

I had read something somewhere about how “powering through” books is not only an ineffective way to read, it’s dissatisfying as a reader. While I hadn’t put my finger on that thought before, once I read that, it completely resonated with me and my own experiences reading. When I really try to muscle through a book, I am vaguely getting a sense of the words, but in a shallow, uneven way, details and meaning lost on me. When I discover a book rich with story and language, or re-read those old favourites, I can feel myself slowing down to savour paragraphs, sentences, words, to soak up those lines and nuances and meanings, re-reading paragraphs to make sure I’ve dug my feet all the way in, to feel every grain of sand against my toes.

So I guess that’s about it for the summer. Slowing down, soaking up. Getting ready for the fall.

Jon sometimes drinks a beer with dinner or after work, and the other day, Jon came home from the main shop. Caleb went to the fridge, and opening it up, said to him: Can I offer you a beer?

My babies are growing up.