It's not your vacation anymore

D and I are now coming down off of one of the most memorable and relaxing vacations we've had. The summer is winding down, school starts in 10 days, B's home from her month long "summer camp," and things are starting to slide back into place.

As I begin to pick my way through the end of summer events and preparations, I'm finding myself sliding back into the well worn groove of the the Quiggle Family routine. It comes as no surprise to me that I'm simultaneously craving the organization and regimentation of our heavily trodden path as well as grieving the end of such a rejuvenating summer. The clash of these two desires has caused a kind of wrinkle in mine brain that I've been trying to iron out for the past week (ever since my mom left, leaving me with the feeling that yes, indeed, the summer fun is over). I've been feeling anxious for no reason, depressed for many reasons, and troubled by the fact that I was having a difficult time relating to B in ways that just a month ago were so second nature. Do we lose our parenting skills as easily as that? All the hard-won patience and acceptance and creativity just gone out the window like so many greasy McDonald's napkins? I relayed (read: whined) my worries to D and he assured me that it would all come back easily in no time.

So in a last-ditch effort to save the week I removed the mantle of "sugar detox" that I had placed on B and took her out for Whimsicle. Fro-yo fixes everything, right? Well, angel food fro-yo with strawberries/carob/coconut topping does at least. We filled our respective bowls and sat by the fish pond and chatted about B's time in Erie, family, the looming presence of THIRD GRADE...but mostly we talked about the single turtle that was swimming around the fish pond: B: "I can't believe there's a turtle in there!" Me: "Really? Why not?" B: "It's a FISH pond!" Profound.

After some turtle watching and fish counting we returned home and threw the old Nerf-skin around in the front yard. Much giggling and running out into the street to retrieve the wayward ball (neither of us has a good arm) ensued. Then we read 4 chapters of The Secret Garden and everything seemed just about right again. Just like riding a bike, right? Just don't stop peddling for too long or you might crash.

So, let's talk about my sudden excitement and anticipation for the upcoming holidays...