A friend reminded me today that I need to get back to the meat and potatoes of this blog ... Get it? Meat and potatoes? Since this blog is meant to be, at least a little bit, about food.
I do love food. Thing is, though, I'm really not a foodie. So mostly this is about family and the ever-changing nature of life in limbo, viewed through the window of a few happy meals (not Happy Meals, but actual happy meals) - hence, the rosemary-colored glasses.
Problem is, I'm not cooking. Or even consuming much beyond coffee, Cheerios and the occasional nectarine. I'm far too busy managing the insanity of my first summer in a single-parent household.
The most obvious problem is the logistical nightmare that is getting everyone from Point A to Point B. See, I signed the kids up for track and field, sponsored by the local rec league. It's cheap, it's something to do, and it gets the kids out of the house and moving. It's also three evenings a week. Combine that with Boy Scouts and swimming, free movies and play dates, mom's busy job and our one-and-only car ... well, let's just say that an iPhone with a nice scheduling app might come in handy. (Mostly because I'm drooling over the new iPhones. I buy the hype and believe an iPhone will change my life. But that's beside the point.)
The bigger issue? Summer means far, far less time for me.
It sounds horribly selfish, doesn't it? But here's the thing. Remember lesson number one? You've got to make time for you. I've made a commitment here.
Well, I looked at my schedule today and realized that, outside of a solo weekend trip to Connecticut ('cause that one really is - almost - all about me), every single weekend between now and mid-August has been spoken for by someone else. And September is starting to fill up, too.
A lot of this is incredibly good stuff that I'm truly and deeply excited about: a first-ever family reunion to celebrate my dad's 70th birthday, visits from our adored former au pairs, and a whole two weeks in the Pacific Northwest with the kids. And in September not one but two reunions - one for high school (25 years - egad!) and one for a group of close friends from college.
That's all good, and I'm over the moon about it. I really am. It's my kids and my family, and it's old friends, and these are far and away the most important things in my universe.
But part of me still thinks summer is a time for easy evenings in the backyard with good friends, a glass of wine, and something grilled & yummy to nibble on. Laughter and crickets and conversation, sprinkled with a little time on your own, a good book and a knitting bag full of yarn. Unscheduled. Unhurried. Peaceful.
That part of me is a little cranky right now.
I know the peace is in there, in this overplanned summer. And I'll find it, in the friends, in the family, and even in my loud, crazy, beautiful kids. And I will find some time for me.
Right now, though, I'll spend some time wallowing in the cranky. I'm glad it's there. Because this bit of crank? It means I've finally learned my lesson.