My Gatsby-loving friend Megan posted this to Facebook early today:
Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it." -- Daisy BuchananAnd so of course, I didn’t miss it but spent all day enjoying the apex. It wouldn’t be hard to know: the kids never go to sleep and then minutes later they wake for the day. The fireflies are out. The lawn is greenest where the sprinkler’s been run through. Summer is here.
Happy summer solstice, friends!
We got through the Big Looming. E’s taken to her first ever summer vacation like a natural, eating at weird times and filling her days with playdates and adventures. Camp starts Monday and she’ll have a whole new set of adventures. L is growing into her own, with mannerisms that make her unique and a personality carrying her ever away from little-sister-of to individuated personhood. She nods her head twice, turning down her cheeks in sage agreement, speaking “oh yeah, yes” to any great idea. She has her own things: the dance inside her, the kisses on her hair cut, and she develops more each week. G has taken to bursting his opinion: Yes ME AM! whether it’s grammatically applicable or not, just to remind you that he has a vote, too, and he’s not letting you fill his proxy card any longer. It’s the longest day of the year.
I took the girls out for a mama-date tonight and we attended a blogger screening of the new movie Brave that opens this weekend. They went to bed about 45 seconds ago and because tomorrow’s the second-longest day, they’ll awaken ready to play before I finish typing here. These months were a steady climb and cresting here, looking across a sun-bright calendar of easy scheduling, a beach week, and not much more than popsicles and fireflies: the view is good from this summit. Bountiful. Vivid. And we have an easy coast down a gentle slope. Daisy also said,
I’d like to just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you around.That’s our summer. We’ll line up our three wild ones in tufts of clouds and push them and pull them, bob them and toss them and enjoy the breeze rolling off our skin as we twirl around.