It’s been a few days. 12 to be exact. My excuse is my schedule changed (no more preschool) and I haven’t figured out how to fit writing in. My youngest really wants a lot (A. LOT.) of attention when there are no siblings around to play with. Although that is an excuse – a fairly believable reason intended to shift blame away from myself. Truth is I could have figured it out if I really wanted to. I think I’m feeling a little bit frazzly desperate and didn’t want to sit down to write and actually know that. The kids are slowly finishing up school which means free time for me has come to an end for a few months. Summer is just about here – which I am absolutely thrilled for – and I want to hang out and do fun things with the kids. I don’t want to pay anyone to be here for me for a few reasons. One, I just don’t want to spend the money. Plain and simple. Two, after a school year of being the “Time for bed!”, “Have you made your lunch?”, “We’ve got to hurry to make the bus guys!”, “Have you finished your homework?” police I want to participate in the fun parent stuff. And I just genuinely love summer and the easy breezy-ness of it. The stay up as late as we want, get up when we wake up, no need to check the clock to make sure we’ll beat the bus home, easy breezy-ness. Hiring a nanny puts me back on a schedule and truthfully, with as much as I hate the school schedule we have nine months of the year, I’m not sure the time alone is worth the schedule price.

Summer is so close to being here and I can see that day at the end of it in September when everyone – everyone – has gone to school and there are at least four (sometimes five!) hours of uninterrupted time for me to do whatever it is I’m going to do. I’ve started a list of all the wonderfully good potential things I’m hoping to do so there will be zero chance I’ll sit around watching TV cause I’m not sure what I should be doing. Or worse, doing laundry or mopping the floor. Those are things that can and should be done when everyone is around and ready to pitch in. Too much magic thinking (i.e. I have a magic mama cleaning fairy! I don’t have to pick up anything!!!) occurs when I do it alone. My list of wonderfully good potential is pretty long already and I only started it this morning.

I can see that day pretty clearly – it’s not so distant that it’s invisible and I simply must bring someone in to allow me a few hours of remembering my own brain time. I can see that day clearly enough that I’m willing to let it come at it’s own pace and enjoy the days that come before it.

Most of the time.

Some of the time I’m a little frazzly desperate for those four-to-five hours a day. I’ve got things I want to do, man. Places to go, products to be made, photos to shoot, things to write and practice saying, careers to investigate…I both want to wait until fall when I can do it without paying a babysitter, and want to start immediately. Today. Tomorrow is too far off. I’m both totally content and frazzly desperate. It’s a weird thing to be both.

I’m learning it’s a head/heart issue. My mind knows it makes more sense to wait. It’ll be cheaper, less of strain on everybody and much easier to organize. I’ll have a break from schedules.  It’s the most logical to wait.

And in my heart – or maybe my soul, who can tell the difference, really? – I’m so ready I could burst. This side of me that has been so patient, waiting for its turn, hand stretched to the ceiling, pulling my shoulder and hip up off the seat as far as one can while still being seated, hoping, hoping, hoping that it will finally be called on.

My mind sees this, feels empathy for this heart of mine, knowing how badly it wants to be called on and smiles an “Almost. A little bit longer. It’s almost your turn.” And my soul settles back, knowing it’s true.

We have one last day of school tomorrow and then early bedtimes, backpacks, alarm clocks, reading logs and lunchboxes are out the door. I can. not. wait. People will start visiting, we’ll have trips to make and exploring to do. The pool will attempt to dirty itself faster than I can keep it clean and we’ll all get tan and smell like a campfire. My soul – or heart, who can tell – will be filled with the amazingness these long, slow days bring and it will be glad to wait just a little bit longer.