Greta told me on the down low that "normal" Moms don't pack cold blueberry pancakes as snacks for hikes. I told her that I was trying not to get all caught up in being normal. At which she rolled her eyes and said "Whatever Mom." At least she was smiling when she said it.
The heat wilts Greta, and seems to fuel Simon with even more silliness. She wanted to leave the beach and go curl up in a dark cool corner of the house with her book. We compromised and took another swim in the ocean, and then looked for crabs before heading home. She forgot how hot she was for a minute.
One of the things I appreciate about summer is that our shopping list is divided into what we can get at the Farmer's Market, and what we can't. Sometimes I stretch it a little thin in between markets. But our homemade pasta is always a hit.
Little day trips seem less daunting with our school less schedule, and catching up with cousins who also like bulldozers and riding scooters is so rewarding. You can actually feel them growing closer to one another. My sister in law and I often joke about how much trouble we will be in when they're teenagers. Luckily, they are both very gentle boys so far.
Anticipating summer vacation made me both excited and a little stressed. But school ended and the worry was for nothing. Everything just naturally shifted into a wonderful little routine of later bedtimes and lots of watermelon. Hiking and swimming and cooking and daily chores, all of it now with two little shadows instead of one.
