Summer

What fun is breaking the rules when there aren’t any rules?

How can you enjoy a change in routine, when you have no routine?

Can there be unstructured moments in a life that has no structure?

I say, “No” a lot.  It’s a terrible drag.  Terrible.  I’m the Mom.  That’s a big part of my job.  But sometimes…I get to say, “Yes.”  And they are thrilled.  It’s elicit.  An incredible stroke of good fortune.  And they love it.  Because they know it’s not normal.  We are fiercely protective of our rules and our structure around here, because it gives us order.  That order also provides us wonderfully safe opportunities for chaos.  The fun kind of chaos.

I love summer.  I love the chaos of summer.  I love the YES of summer.

 

I love children that smell like chlorine and have terribly dirty feet.  I love bedtimes that get breezed right by in favor of late nights with the neighborhood running, screaming through the darkness with flashlights and firefly jars.  I love popsicles in the middle of the afternoon.  A shower in the yard?  Sure.  With soap?  Why not.  And no clothes?  Absolutely!

I love the YES of summer. 

First

Last Friday was the first Friday of August.

My Love and I showed up way early so we could be the first ones in line.

I took my first daughter to a rock concert.

Her first rock concert.

To see the first band I have ever been crazy about.

And we stood in the first row.

And they played her very favorite song.  First.

I was so over whelmed with stupid joy that I stood there and cried.  

Thank goodness for dark sunglasses. 

It was quite simply one of those moments I was talking about last week.  

One of those extraordinary moments on an ordinary day 

that is worth stopping to celebrate.  Woot! 

There will be lots more Fridays.  And long lines to stand in.  

She will fall in love with other bands and go to many concerts.

But there will never be another first rock concert.

  

For the rest of her life, people will ask her which was her first one.  

And she'll tell them about standing with me.  In the first row.

How much do I love this?  

More than alot.

Celebrate

All I've got is questions this week.  Who do I celebrate?  What do I celebrate?  When is it time?  Who decides?

There is so much to celebrate.  So.  Much.

Little stuff though.  It's not always banners and parades.  Sometimes its a birthday candle in a granola bar.  It's the birdseed that fell in just the right place to grow the most spectacular sunflowers in the middle of the too green lawn.  It's the fact that my autocorrect now recognizes 'woot' as a word because I use it so often.  In celebration.

You could thank God for them.  I celebrate them.  I'm mindful of them.  That celebrates them in the simplest way.  Either way...I think it works.

What if the only things you woke up with tomorrow were the things you celebrated today?

Would it change what you were grateful for?  Probably not, but it might make you change the way you acted towards them.  In response to them.

How about we start celebrating without warning.  Stop planning it.  See the magic in everyday and Woot, Woot, Woot about it!

No pomp.  Just circumstance.