An Open Letter to Summer

"HOW WAS YOUR SUMMER?"
Every teacher everywhere: "Way too fast!"


Dear Summer,

You clever little fellow. Every year you get me. 

As the snow falls in February, the hint of your name soothes the savage beast inside of me raging with cabin fever. Your intoxicating scent is often brought through a burning flame of a candle fabricated to smell like the sand and lapping waves that welcomes my feet each and every time. I allow myself to get lost in daydreams of sunbeams and a delayed moon. Fireflies will often dance through my mind as I watch the snow flakes settle on the previously shoveled mounds. I long for extended hikes with mud underfoot and a symphony of birds all around me. Crystal, chlorinated water calls to me...welcoming a multitude of cannonballs and breath-holding contests. I love getting caught red-handed after discovering wild raspberries ripe for the picking. You are by all stretches of the imagination, an open door to new adventures and the promise of much needed renewal. 

And then you arrive. The wait is over. You always ease me in...slowly. Warming me up to the thought that you'll be around for a full nine weeks. But then something happens. A fast forward button is pressed, a time machine is altered, a worm hole is opened and POOF! You are gone. Before the raspberry stains are completely faded from my fingers, I hear the school bell ring.  Buses circle like flies as waves of backpacks race toward them. Bird harmonics have been replaced by alarm clocks. It's time. 

My internal conflict of carefree vs. the slight longing for structure is ever raging.  So, I bid you adieu. I thank you softly and often begrudgingly for the short time we had together. I start the countdown the moment you leave until we meet again. And I fool myself. Yes I do. I tell myself next year will be longer. It's better that way. 

So until we meet again, my tricky little fellow, I'll bask in your glow. Be well and be warm. 

Longingly yours, 

Mel

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Mags: "I can't wait 'til I can read super good. You know the first thing I'm gonna read?"
Me: "War and Peace?"
Mags: "No! Your blog about me and Tuck."
Me: "Just take into consideration my sleep deprivation in the beginning years."

YOU GOT ME

Me: "Mags, what are you doing snuggled up with Tuck? I told you he's sick, honey. Do you want to get sick, too?"
Mags: "I don't care if I get sick. He needs me."

Our kids have always been close. From the second Tuck met Mags on the outside of my belly, their bond was instant. He brought out her first coo. Her first smile. Her first belly laugh. Her first word. Her first steps. He is, by every stretch of the imagination, her rock.

And she is his. She brings out his strength to walk down a dark hallway. One word from her can send him into fits of laughter (or tears). Her smile puts him at ease when he's uncertain. In fact, Chris and I often joke that we pity any girl who breaks his heart first. The wrath of Mags will be fierce.

So, when my friends at Grace Hill Media shared the featurette from Gavin DeGraw, You Got Me, it spoke to me. Written for the heartwarming sequel, Dolphin Tale 2, it really connected to my own life. The lyrics are insightful and touching. Not only will this song be perfect for this future family classic, but I guarantee everyone has had times in their lives in which they can relate. 

When a song speaks to my heart, it captures my attention immediately. This song does just that. Want to hear it? Well, thanks to Grace Hill Media, I have the chance to share it with you! 

Take it in and enjoy! Let me know what you think in the comments.

HIGHWAY TO THE DANGER ZONE

Me: "What was your favorite part of the lake vacation?"
Tuck: "My favorite part was how you let me tube all by myself. I know you were scared, but you let me do it. It was the best thing ever!"

I realized something on our vacation. I can't be the one to hold Tuck back. The potential is there out of pure maternal instinct to keep him safe and sound. But how will he learn? How will he find his own way if I'm constantly there steering him in the safer direction? I'm keeping him on the road MOST traveled. I know in some instances, this is a necessity. But there are those times where I have to step back, trust we've done our job, and let him decide.

So, as my "baby" climbed on that tube behind the boat and floated slowly away, the symbolism was not lost on me. The line attached to the boat was secure. But it stretched further out of my comfort zone than I would have liked.  I realized then that as Tuck gains years of experience, I have to be here to cheer him on and ADD to his courage to try new things. I have to be here to GUIDE him through his adventures, no matter how big or small. And if my comfort is compromised a little, well, so be it. We will all grow through this.

Most importantly, I want him to know I trust him in his choices. He's morphing into a young man right before every one's eyes; including mine. And when I forget and pull that rope in a little, I need to remember the elation on his face when I witnessed his self-confidence explode. I'm so proud of you, Tuck.

Here's to MANY more independent excursions!