Under a marshmallow puff of feather comforter, the bed is still made so as not to make things more difficult. I am curled up, still in my swimsuit after a long morning of fun. Tommy is beside me, and I hear him reading quietly to himself. This is what I dreamed about, I think. My handsome son with sun-kissed golden hair, and a pile of books between us. It has been a perfect day.
The kids woke up early and are still on probation from tv. It was just cereal for breakfast and then a huddled group of us hunkered on the couch, reading Spanish kids' books. Somehow they didn't even mind that they didn't know each word. After that, pulling on clothes and tucking in sheets and brushing teeth and picking up stray Barbies, Mag-formers, books, tents. Hurrying out the door and throwing a stroller and a scooter in the trunk. Dropping Tommy off to tennis lessons and going for a run past the cemetery with the younger kids. "There are ghosts living IN the gravestones!"
A few minutes to watch Tommy finish up tennis and then a spontaneous decision to hit the pool.
The kids were chilly and the pool still inviting, so they swam and then lazily laid on the poolside chairs, wrapped contentedly in towels. I actually sat down myself. Felt the medium-hot sun shining down on us four in this wonderful moment. Just so happy and still.
And then, to say yes to a lunch out, fearing that it would be more work to keep them happy and busy waiting for food to come at the pool.
But a pleasant surprise when they waited in their chairs for fifteen minutes, talking and looking and laughing and not getting up. Happy to be where they were. I am so happy, too.
And the food comes and they are sharing and thanking and smiling and eating it all. It's not a rush---no babies, no accidents, no spilling, barely a murmur of disagreement.
And then off to the car and they say goodbye to the people around us---the adults around us---by name. And we cajole on, heading together toward the library.
Jimmy is playing with three little boys, some a bit taller and some a bit smaller than he. It's the standard Thomas the Train table and I am reading my book several yards away. I can hear him jabbering excitedly to the grandma nearby. The other boys are fighting but Jimmy is sharing and playing and then telling me it's time to go the bathroom. He knows where it is.
Lucy and Tommy have bargained with me, How many chapter books can they check out this time? We negotiate and and for a while, they are engrossed in their mission to find the best books. The superheroes. The tween girls wearing impossible fashion choices and reeking of bad writing.
And then those older two are suddenly gone, their piles of books beside them at the computer station. They are happy and smart and clicking away.
They are all waiting for me to distribute the library cards, so they can perform their self-check.
And then let's drive home, my sleeping baby in his little boy car seat. My older kids quietly absorbed in their books. Me on a mission to grab an Americano because I'm still paying for a late night out last weekend.
The day that never happens! I am patient and they are wonderful. We on adventures and then it is naptime and Jimmy slips under his Buzz Lightyear covers. Lucy crawls into her top-the-bed princess tent and chooses a nap. Tommy curls in next to me, wondrously old and curious and reading.
The best.
The kids woke up early and are still on probation from tv. It was just cereal for breakfast and then a huddled group of us hunkered on the couch, reading Spanish kids' books. Somehow they didn't even mind that they didn't know each word. After that, pulling on clothes and tucking in sheets and brushing teeth and picking up stray Barbies, Mag-formers, books, tents. Hurrying out the door and throwing a stroller and a scooter in the trunk. Dropping Tommy off to tennis lessons and going for a run past the cemetery with the younger kids. "There are ghosts living IN the gravestones!"
A few minutes to watch Tommy finish up tennis and then a spontaneous decision to hit the pool.
The kids were chilly and the pool still inviting, so they swam and then lazily laid on the poolside chairs, wrapped contentedly in towels. I actually sat down myself. Felt the medium-hot sun shining down on us four in this wonderful moment. Just so happy and still.
And then, to say yes to a lunch out, fearing that it would be more work to keep them happy and busy waiting for food to come at the pool.
But a pleasant surprise when they waited in their chairs for fifteen minutes, talking and looking and laughing and not getting up. Happy to be where they were. I am so happy, too.
And the food comes and they are sharing and thanking and smiling and eating it all. It's not a rush---no babies, no accidents, no spilling, barely a murmur of disagreement.
And then off to the car and they say goodbye to the people around us---the adults around us---by name. And we cajole on, heading together toward the library.
Jimmy is playing with three little boys, some a bit taller and some a bit smaller than he. It's the standard Thomas the Train table and I am reading my book several yards away. I can hear him jabbering excitedly to the grandma nearby. The other boys are fighting but Jimmy is sharing and playing and then telling me it's time to go the bathroom. He knows where it is.
Lucy and Tommy have bargained with me, How many chapter books can they check out this time? We negotiate and and for a while, they are engrossed in their mission to find the best books. The superheroes. The tween girls wearing impossible fashion choices and reeking of bad writing.
And then those older two are suddenly gone, their piles of books beside them at the computer station. They are happy and smart and clicking away.
They are all waiting for me to distribute the library cards, so they can perform their self-check.
And then let's drive home, my sleeping baby in his little boy car seat. My older kids quietly absorbed in their books. Me on a mission to grab an Americano because I'm still paying for a late night out last weekend.
The day that never happens! I am patient and they are wonderful. We on adventures and then it is naptime and Jimmy slips under his Buzz Lightyear covers. Lucy crawls into her top-the-bed princess tent and chooses a nap. Tommy curls in next to me, wondrously old and curious and reading.
The best.
