It’s the same every year. Just when I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread at home, with work, and with life in general, vacation is on the horizon.
Over time, we women grow accustomed to running on auto pilot. We rise shortly after daybreak, rush to get ourselves and our children out of the house on time each morning, meet our daily work obligations, juggle our kids’ social calendar, maintain our homes and, somewhere amongst all of this, try to care for ourselves. This constant state of mania in which we exist is not good for the body or soul.
At some point, we must recharge the batteries.
My annual end-of-summer break is the time that I indulge in the most self-care than I do all year. Instead of doing yoga once weekly, I go a couple of times and get in some pilates. I walk or run about two miles a day at least three times a week. Almost every day is make-up free, hair is easy breezy or wavy and wild. Heels are on hiatus. It’s all about shorts, tees, flowy sundresses, and sandals.
I feel the sun’s warmth. I see the blue in the sky. My mind is relaxed. I am happy.
But my greatest joy is watching my son revel in a lifestyle that he does not typically get to enjoy. We live just outside of the city, and are true New Yorkers. Apartment living and place-hopping is what we do in our part of the world. So far, summer fun for him has been the park, outdoor birthday parties, and the museum. A New York kid is often an indoor kid.
But at Ma’s house, there is a front and backyard that my son and dog commandeer with balls and water hoses. Each day begins with fun at the pool. Now that he is good and steady on his feet, maybe this trip, he’ll be up for tackling the giant water slide. There’s the beach with a sand castle that has our name on it waiting to be built. And unbeknownst to my little one, he will zip around on a little fire engine red training bike. His Thomas the Train scooter that Ma bought awaits his arrival. There will be lunches at our favorite restaurants, fraps from Starbucks, and as much fun that fills our days.
This is our special family time. Baby (okay toddler), grandma, and me time.
We are blessed. We are truly, truly blessed.