i do love summer. but it is at this time of year that i rather feel at war in my own home. flies abound. moths appear (and freak the wool-loving daylights out of me). there are spiders everywhere. and then there's the general kid mess: mud tracks, wet spots, food droppings that wander both inside and out(i dream about a dog who will help with this someday. also, see prior mention of flies above), and somehow the toys multiply.
these days, too, my sweet cat - who has always been an angel - very recently decided to wage a protest and refuse to use her litter box. so there's cat pee to contend with in various pockets of carpet all around our home. (gross, i know. but i'm a mother. my daily life is all about the pee and the poo. hence the need to focus on the loveluckbliss of a day on the beach.) we are armed with laboratory grade germ-killing power, to be sure (thanks to our vet). and we're getting ready to come to the negotiating table with options for spike (our 12 year-old cat) to consider using her litter box again. but until she's willing to hear what we have to say about how we will manage the
dinosaurs toddlers that roar every time they see her, until we convince her that she doesn't have spread her urine to assert dominance over the monsters children, and that hissing really does the trick - the days are rather smelly and irritating because i work from home most days and it's quite a job turning away from any of this while actually working or while attempting to engage in a mother's version of play (which includes actual playing but also disciplining, constant cleaning, intermittent cooking - and if my children are to be exposed only to the mildest of my hulk-like temper - some knitting. the blogging usually happens late at night. or in the stolen moments between bathroom breaks. if i'm very lucky.)
i know. it's all rather full, isn't it? i often wonder how amanda soule does it all. her blog is my version of fantasy fiction these days: a slice of the most idyllic life. kind of like what i imagine living in modern green gables would be like. i'm pretty sure i can't fathom her version of chaos - what with caring for and homeschooling 5 children, not to mention running a farm with animals, and gardens and everything - and that's on top of the drama of maintaining a blog and editing a magazine. that's a lot of hard work and effort, even if she has help. still. i dream about all the pretty parts she shares. she takes lovely photographs.
oh, and did i mention i'm recovering from some freak of nature virus that had me passed out the whole day on canada day? now that really wasn't pretty. i couldn't even pick up my knitting, if that tells you anything about my condition.
thankfully, before i was knocked down by the wretched viral club, we managed to trek it out to jericho beach by bus and on foot, with the most pared down parade float ever.
it was rather epic, to be honest. when we got there, the beach water was completely flooded with seaweed.
but as you can see, the boy was in heaven. and the girl was happy enough to be in her bathing suit, on sand and tree.
the sea weed was super gross and thick when i waded briefly in all its glory, so i stayed on shore the rest of the time and said a prayer of gratitude for the kindness of the parents and children that humoured and played with my little man.
i do regret not spending more time with the wife when we were out there. we went in separate directions, opting for a one-on-one parent-child defence strategy amid such a wide expanse. but such is our lot, while our toddlers arbitrarily decide to stray from us without a second thought.
sticky, smelly, and tired, we walked through our home so happy. and refreshed.
even though it felt like the longest stretch of a day, i can't wait to do it all over again: different day, different beach, new adventure (well away from my home-keeping woes).
now i just need to talk my wife into it again.