Summer is a bittersweet time for this Mama and teacher. Oftentimes, we don’t have the money to do all of the fun things available with our kids–and then towards the end of the summer, we are especially strapped for cash because Mama gets paid in June and then not again until September. Money sure has a way of adding quiet, stifling anxiety to summer vacation.
The teacher part of me needs to get up every day at 5:30, have a purpose and goals set, and work towards them all day. Come home at 5, make dinner, do mom stuff, and relax. I need schedules, goals, plans. And it took me years to figure this out. Summer vacation would come around, ambitious fun would be planned, and then two or three weeks in, it’s not so fun anymore. It’s more like…have I seriously worn these same yoga pants for three days in a row now? What is that stain? Ina Garten, why are you so pretentious? (That’s me on a Food Network binge.) So for several years, I could never quite figure out why summer vacation was never…fulfilling. And always steeped in latent depression and anxiety. Guilt for not being productive. No relaxing whatsoever. Ah ha! I finally realized that I do need to stick to a schedule and that is perfectly normal.
All of that being said, I am in kind of a slump right now…although I did shower and am wearing clean yoga pants. I have had killer allergies and bronchitis going on six weeks, so going outside and doing things truly is miserable.
So, on the couch, I am. Toddler is napping in her big girl bed. And I have an enormous glass of homemade raspberry iced tea I made a few days ago. Iced tea always brings back summertime memories. My aunt used to take us to the 4-10 Cafe in Grandview, WA, where she would do pull tab gambling and I would drink glass after glass of weak, sugary ice tea. My brothers would drink what Aunt Shiela called “milk pop.” This was her way of giving them a treat, without actually giving them an entire soda. She told the waitress to fill the glass nearly to the top with milk and then add a splash of Pepsi. My brothers thought they were living the high life with that stuff.
Henry and I went to the coast a few days ago and spent the weekend in an RV we rented from my colleague. It was just me, Henry, and the toddler–and each morning, I would venture out to the nearby coffee stand to get us coffee, and a hot chocolate for the kid. One morning, I forgot the hot chocolate that, apparently, Henry had been talking up in my absence. Damn it. So I had to improvise. Milk pop it was. Man, she really thought she was getting away with something, drinking that with breakfast.
Happy Thursday, friends! I will get back into blogging this summer. For dinner tonight: chicken tostadas and homemade pico de gallo!