There is one week of summer break left before we send Hank to second grade, Archie to Kindergarten, and Elsie to a TBD school of choice 2 times a week. Twice a week this nest will feel empty for the first time since our first wedding anniversary.
While I am pinning bento box meals, searching for the right back packs, and gawking at the absurd school supply list, I am also taking stock of our summer. We chose for all three kids to be home, not to have a set plan for each day; to fill our 8 weeks with $1 movies, park outings, pool swimming, home days, lego building, trampoline jumping, firefly catching, and in general the luxury and bliss of not having to have any plan at all. The kids have happily started a morning routine of granola, yogurt, and pound puppies. It has been perfect, as perfect as an imperfect family could wish for. Not instagram lovely, or pinterest perfect, but messy real life perfect.
I have watched our kids grow and stretch emotionally and physically. We've struggled to support Hank to find his way as a sensitive kid in a noisy and insensitive world, and battled decisions on counseling, medication, how much we are able to help vs. how much he needs. I think he grew 3 feet this summer, and weathered emotions of Hemingway proportions. We chose to start an antidepressant this summer, which was a decision heavy with worry, doubt, and even some self reflective guilt over the things we pass down to our kids. It feels like a taboo subject, children who need more mental help than hugs and home love can give, but if anyone wants a soft heart and open ear to discuss it, we've skirted around it for a couple years in our home.
Archie has grown into something the same and wholly different than what I expected. The same confident silly boy at home, and this unexpected shy little man when out at a friends or in a class. His oft uttered request for confirmation on any given thing is, "Right Hanky?" He is long and lanky, which reminds me of my brothers, because I swear he eats twice his body weight each day, and I can still see his spine through his shirts. He is fearless and bashful all at once.
Elsie. Is. A. Pistol. She is a sharp witted, strong willed, force of a girl to be reckoned with. She defies us at every turn with a toss of her curls, a stamping foot, and the phrase "are you kidding me?!" I can't discipline her without laughing, and once she knows you are laughing she is already aware she has won. Most of the time when I choose a stance or a hard line, two hours later I regret it. I don't know if I will ever get her to apologize for anything. Ever. I hope she speeds through life with fire and fury unapologetically, like she does now.
It is 8o'clock, we're off our nighttime schedule by an hour because while I have been sitting outside writing, they have been jumping on the trampoline and catching fireflies in cups. This is the sweetness of summer nights without plans or obligations. The sweetness I always hope to preserve through the school year, but that usually gives way to lunch packing, school prepping, and general needs for sleep before spending a day out of home learning. Thank goodness for 8 weeks of summer...
