Lock Down
I have just locked my children out of the house. A new low? Or a stroke of brilliance? I'm not sure.
Here is what I do know for sure. If the back door, the garage door, or the front door opened and shut (and by shut, of course I mean slammed) one more time in this 24 hour period, I might have ripped any and all of these doors from their hinges with my newly manicured bare hands.
My darling children are not locked out forever. In fact, I will let them in when they knock (maybe) but what I need is the warning period. . . I need the few minutes of peace between the knock and the entry. I need the few minutes while they are trying every door to gain entry into the house. For yes, every door is locked, and one is even dead bolted. I need a minute.
I love summer.
I love Popsicles, sprinklers, flip-flops, bikes, dirty feet, you name it. . . I love it. Late to bed, late to rise, movies, day trips, poolside lunches and ice cream dinners.
Love it.
There's a lot of togetherness in the summertime.
I am grateful for every moment of it, although you may not actually glean this truth given the start of this particular entry. I'm not the mom who wishes summer away. I don't crave the first day of school, the yellow bus coming around, the moment when my children are gone. In fact, I dread it. This will be the first year when all of my babes are gone all day long, and I'm not quite sure how I'll react. Badly, I suspect. But, the fact that I have locked the angels out of their own abode today doesn't mean I fear their imminent departure any less.
I just needed for us all to have a tiny bit of distance between us so we can appreciate each other later this evening. What didn't I need? I did not need anymore bathroom doors flying open today while I am getting dressed. I did not need to find any more kitchen cabinet doors left open while three kids (and three friends) scour for snacks. I did not need to hear the microwave door, the fridge door, or the freezer door open and shut one more time. I did not need to hear the creak of the patio doors only to look up and suddenly find that someone has changed the channel from the Olympics to Disney.
Not that I couldn't use some good sunshine and playtime myself, and I may open a door myself and do just that. But in the meantime, it's outside for the lot of them. Our mothers weren't so dumb. . . we were outside all the time, no questions asked, no better place to be.
Oh no. . . one of the children is knocking. Hang on a second. . . I need to go speak through the window.
"What? I know you can't get in. I know the Popsicle is cold, it's frozen. No. No. Yes. No. Outside. Later. Because I said so. Because. Because. Because."
Crisis averted. Phew!
It's peaceful, these few moments, but I do see them circling.
When I am alone and lonely on those early September days, not so far from now, I will miss the slamming doors, and I will remember how hard it was to find even a moment's peace. Remind me that summer will roll around again soon, and that all the things I love—the noise, the Popsicles, the bikes, and the friends will soon fill my days. And remind me that I only locked the children out of the house once, in a moment of weakness. And that it only lasted for ten minutes. . . I'm heading out to play.
Here is what I do know for sure. If the back door, the garage door, or the front door opened and shut (and by shut, of course I mean slammed) one more time in this 24 hour period, I might have ripped any and all of these doors from their hinges with my newly manicured bare hands.
My darling children are not locked out forever. In fact, I will let them in when they knock (maybe) but what I need is the warning period. . . I need the few minutes of peace between the knock and the entry. I need the few minutes while they are trying every door to gain entry into the house. For yes, every door is locked, and one is even dead bolted. I need a minute.
I love summer.
I love Popsicles, sprinklers, flip-flops, bikes, dirty feet, you name it. . . I love it. Late to bed, late to rise, movies, day trips, poolside lunches and ice cream dinners.
Love it.
There's a lot of togetherness in the summertime.
I am grateful for every moment of it, although you may not actually glean this truth given the start of this particular entry. I'm not the mom who wishes summer away. I don't crave the first day of school, the yellow bus coming around, the moment when my children are gone. In fact, I dread it. This will be the first year when all of my babes are gone all day long, and I'm not quite sure how I'll react. Badly, I suspect. But, the fact that I have locked the angels out of their own abode today doesn't mean I fear their imminent departure any less.
I just needed for us all to have a tiny bit of distance between us so we can appreciate each other later this evening. What didn't I need? I did not need anymore bathroom doors flying open today while I am getting dressed. I did not need to find any more kitchen cabinet doors left open while three kids (and three friends) scour for snacks. I did not need to hear the microwave door, the fridge door, or the freezer door open and shut one more time. I did not need to hear the creak of the patio doors only to look up and suddenly find that someone has changed the channel from the Olympics to Disney.
Not that I couldn't use some good sunshine and playtime myself, and I may open a door myself and do just that. But in the meantime, it's outside for the lot of them. Our mothers weren't so dumb. . . we were outside all the time, no questions asked, no better place to be.
Oh no. . . one of the children is knocking. Hang on a second. . . I need to go speak through the window.
"What? I know you can't get in. I know the Popsicle is cold, it's frozen. No. No. Yes. No. Outside. Later. Because I said so. Because. Because. Because."
Crisis averted. Phew!
It's peaceful, these few moments, but I do see them circling.
When I am alone and lonely on those early September days, not so far from now, I will miss the slamming doors, and I will remember how hard it was to find even a moment's peace. Remind me that summer will roll around again soon, and that all the things I love—the noise, the Popsicles, the bikes, and the friends will soon fill my days. And remind me that I only locked the children out of the house once, in a moment of weakness. And that it only lasted for ten minutes. . . I'm heading out to play.
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