A note to my kids - saying goodbye to summer

As the last summer evening of family backyard teeball ended my heart dropped a bit knowing we were walking inside and closing out another season. Truth is, I did not want to be full-time at home this summer. I was nervous going into it wondering how I would muster the energy to be a daily activities director. I was so jealous of your dad so many mornings heading out of the house to another world while i stayed in this one repeating the often monotonous chores of the home. I imperfectly as I can possibly imagine lead you two kids through this summer. And here we go into a new rhythm - all still in tact AND even with surprising and unimaginable memories and growth. Mercy Be.

This summer you two have taught me so much. I wasn’t anticipating all I would witness. I watched the way you looked at each other first thing in the morning. Mateo’s joy the second he heard footsteps that “Tissy” was awake! Hannah, your heart for him grew from lime size to an elephant - you doted on him, laughed with him, read to him, encouraged him - I could hardly believe what was unfolding before me was this beautiful sibling relationship. Last year was too traumatic and intense to give you bonding space and this summer it felt like more beautiful than I could have imagined the many years we prayed for you Hannah to have a sibling. And listen, it wasn't all perfect because becoming siblings also came with the hitting, frustration, jealousy, and room boundaries that can make any momma crazy.

Coming out of a deep season of grief, I learned more about myself than I probably wanted to in how I took on the days. The waves of grief still floundering through my body caused impatient, distracted and sometimes unkind responses. I thought i might throw something if i had to meal plan and go to target one more time, never mind the time at the sink or baskets of laundry that seemed to always need me. I was more bitter than i wish. i am not proud of the way that i let the repetition defeat me. There were days I frustrated quickly with your spills on the carpet or sharpie on the new dining table, or the sound of the whine got so deep under my skin, i screamed too. I also found myself longing for distraction and activity so we spent a few weeks so over scheduled that we were all exhausted - which then led a week of nonstop Rio Olympics. A few times staring at my phone, wanting to escape into something adult, smart, affirming and got lost reading horrible news headlines and unrealistic Instagram envy.

What I really found this summer was how much each of you enjoyed exploring but equally thrived in the quiet moments. You both continued to beg for my face and my attention. You both wanted to sit near me, shut my computer or turn off the TV, and read or talk or play. You both really wanted presence of a mother - and you wanted to be seen and enjoyed. Each of you responded to the moments I delighted in you with such obvious joy and rest at times it was like you were waiting for me to indulge you with tickles or a book or a long chat. There were days you stretched me all the way out where I watched the clock until dad’s bus was coming home to exhale for a slight moment. And there were days were i wanted to hold you both so close, stay out in the sun past dinner and live in eternal summer mode together.

As I send you Hannah to start second grade, my mind is like a slideshow of our days. And while I love remembering Hannah catching her first fish at Cama Beach or Mateo experiencing East Coast beach with unabashed joy for sand and water, the Outer Banks cousin dance routine, the water ballon fight at grub club in CLT, family kayaking at South Lake Union, the thrill of watching the Olympic gymnasts… what I hold closest to my heart were the still moments around the house where you came and snuggled, or the times in the car when I looked in the mirror and saw you two holding hands in the back seat, or the pre dinner dance parties when we shook out all the crazy from the day and laughed with each other. I’ll remember tearful conversations trying to figure out friendships and Hannah's determination after 50 falls to get one back-walkover. I remember swimming and eating and screaming and crying and praying and singing. All of it. As ragtag of a crew as it felt somedays, you two gave me an unbelievable privilege this summer to be full-time at home and witness all the beauty of your growing up and growing together. Now, I'm nervous for FALL and will miss our days so very much. Who would have guessed?