Mom...

I forget how much mom-ming I do in the summer.

Today-- thought I had all the time in the world when I woke up. Just a couple of errands in the morning, followed by a walk, then, maybe some laundry, and possibly some grocery shopping and...

And talking to my kids.

All four of them.

The little kids about their day.

The big kids about their lives.

The grocery shopping turned into an excursion to the craft store because summer is here and everyone gets bored. (Chicken made us bottle cap charms-- they're adorable and clever. I'm keeping mine forever.)

Then the actual grocery shopping grew huge as I anticipated ways to not have to live and eat at McDonalds for the next five days.

There was hair to brush and hugs to give and pets to laugh at and dinner to make.

And then, when I thought I'd done it all, Big T got home, and there was conversation, one last one, for forty-five minutes because Big T needs mom too.

It's funny-- I'm relearning my kids all over again. Chicken as an adult is much more intense and private than she was as an adolescent. (One of the reasons I don't talk as much about her is this privacy--I am reluctant to trespass on her personality for my own social media.) Big T's self-knowledge of his limitations and abilities increases daily. Zoomboy is such a proud little nerd--and Squish?

She's my gentle baby. It's hard to remember that sometimes in the middle of all these other children with sharp edges and corners, but Squish needs abundance and joy or she gets hurt.

So I woke up today thinking I was going to be able to get lots of writing done, and in truth I got a little.  But I got a lot of mom-ming done, and tomorrow there's going to be more. I'm starting to remember why summer has been such a worry and a joy for the past six years. I love my jobs--mom-ming and writing.

It's just hard to do them both at the same time.