Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Where In The Heck Is The Hussy. Season 2. Starts Saturday.
It's summer. This cats been out of school for two weeks. But it feels like summer to me tonight. I mean, not really, because it's supposed to go down into the 50's. And I'm going to have to dig out my flannel pajamas. But it feels like summer because I just finished with my latest doula family tonight.
I spent the majority of the day alone with the babies. Twins. They were tag teaming me all day. One up. One down. One up. One down. I was reminded of the early days with this cat.
And this cat.
And as I rolled down the driveway smelling like urine soaked cloth diapers and baby puke for the last time to drive home to my babies, I was not struck with that impulse to throw my hands in the air and yell, "yahoo". I don't know what was wrong. I mean, I like not having to absolutely be somewhere, at absolutely this time, with the mind set that I actually have to do something. I like that. My laziness in its pure form.
But I came home to the kitchen floor painted in garbage juice and plastic bags and ice cream containers littering the corners of my home. And because I have dogs that love to eat everything, including the garbage, I had to mop.
And I came home to a porch littered with toys that have migrated outside. Dress up shoes. Matchbox cars. Polly Pockets. And I had to pick up.
And I came home to wet towels and wet bathing suits and carping (again) about hanging all that crap up.
And I've had to dodge the "I'm bored" bullets. Without a bullet proof vest.
And then I had to catch myself. Hello? It's summer.
And my friend Katy's recommendation to say "Only boring people are bored" seems to be working as a retaliating shot from my own arsenal. It got our cars washed.
And it's seemed to make sitting by oneself on the end of the dock...okay.
And I've found that there are no boring people swinging in the hammock by themselves.
And absolutely no boring people swimming in the pond.
I'm working on the feet up, hair down, music blaring part of the summer vacation equation. I suppose I'm moving slowing into it. Similarly to how I enter the water- backwards, with a gradual fall.
Just be prepared, if you ever visit us on the Homestead, you might have to maneuver yourself around wet suits, Polly Pocket outfits, and possible garbage. Because, hell, I'm on vacation!