There's nothing I like better than a good storm. There are so many options when you're standing in the storm. You can ride the power. You can use the power. Or you can just close your eyes and enjoy while it wraps around you like a warm blanket, sweeping through your system and making you feel like you could fly for one utterly blissful moment, when all is right with your world and everything in it. It's an awesome, awesome feeling. We're so small in the grand scheme of things, but we are a part of it. To feel Mother Gaia wrap her arms around you and welcome you is, in many ways, like going home.
Today has been awesome. Exhausting, but awesome. It started out terrible-Garrett wouldn't go to bed last night, so I stayed up way too late and wound up falling asleep on our loveseat. Now, normally this isn't something I'd mind. As a matter of fact, there are many days I go out of my way to fall asleep on my loveseat. It rocks! While a loveseat might have been meant for two people, however, it certainly wasn't meant for three. Not in any position that resembles sleeping, at any rate! About halfway through my 300th episode of Buffy (okay, not really, but I was so tired it even felt like it to me!) I was dozing in and out of sleep in a cramped, contorted position that the Olympic gymnasts would have been envious of!
Garrett finally passed out on me at about three in the morning, and we migrated upstairs. I had had great plans to get up this morning around five so I could go running and get some work done before I had to take Chelsea to ballet. Of course, this plan greatly hinged on being able to go to bed early, which between having company over until eleven and having my very own three year old Kapuchin climbing all over my living room just didn't happen. I woke up at 9:00 still exhausted and wedged between my daughter, who crawled into my bed, kissed me on the lips and promptly passed back out, and my husband, who was starting to wake up and, in the way of people who have no respect for sleep, decided I should be awake too.
Needless to say, I was a little cranky when I finally realized what time it was, woke up my daughter and stumbled downstairs for some breakfast.
The beginnings of a huge headache and a bowl of finely ground Frosted Mini Wheats crumbs later, I was ready to get this show on the road. I was counting on having ten minutes in a nice, hot shower to pull myself back together, maybe taking a little time to spit shine my aura (which had to be pitch black by that point in time) and start feeling a little more human. I forgot one thing. My husband LOVES sharing the shower.
Get your mind out of the gutter.
Seriously. I'm a shameless shower hog. I HATE sharing my shower, even with the kids. I like to light a candle, crawl my half human, half alien morning self into the shower and just sit and broil for a little while. I don't have to share the hot water, I have room to stretch, and I can sing and talk to myself and meditate to my heart's content. Have you ever tried to channel energy through your chakra when you're half awake and someone's talking in your ears? It's enough to make a saint suicidal.
More importantly, in a house full of people my shower is the only ten minutes in a day I actually get to myself. I treasure that time. I can massage my scalp, shameless exfoliate my skin and enjoy ten minutes out of the day where I don't have to be anybody's mommy, anybody's wife or anybody's contractor. I can just be me, which (at the risk of sounding like a complete and utter emo) doesn't get to happen a whole lot these days between work, school and my family. Take that away from me and my day's already off to a rough start.
Throw in an overtired and whiny six year old who doesn't want to have to deal with putting on her tights for ballet and you've got an instant recipe for disaster. By the time I dropped her off at class (after a futile search for the shoe she lost last week that never did reappear), forced her into her old, slightly too-small back-up slippers and sent her in to class I wasn't fit company for man or beast.
Thank God for friends. I'm good friends with the father of one of the other dancers in Chelsea's class, and he took one look at me and just gave me a hug. I needed that. Just a simple, undemanding hug from a friend. Hugs moved on to coffee with the kiddies in tow, and a quick shot of caffeine and a bagel later I was feeling something close to human again. Of course, the quick dousing in the deluge that started coming down the minute we stepped out of the coffee shop might have helped. I love getting soaked in a summer storm, when it's hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk and the water's coming down nice and warm.
We were soaked by the time we got back to the studio, having promised the kids to send a car back for them, but it was so worth it.
Well, my stressed little mind was turning a mile a minute with my ten mile long to-do list after class (Yes, I spent ten whole minutes going through everything I was supposed to do today. Isn't that pathetic?) but was informed that the kids wanted to spend the afternoon together. My first instinct was to refuse-I had work to do, after all. But Chelsea's friend is going out of state soon and may be gone until we leave for New York, so I didn't have the heart.
I'm glad I didn't. We had some errands to run first, and let me tell you-there are some days when I'm SUCH a woman. I wanted to get Chelsea loaded up on dance stuff for next year, since I'm not sure how far away the nearest dance shop's going to be next year and don't want to spend August scrambling to find out, so we spent a small fortune at Walmart and Dancer's Wardrobe. Retail therapy. Nothing beats it.
Anyway, after coming home, tossing in a load of laundry and scrubbing the dirt out of her tights with a toothbrush so she'd have a clean pair for her recital tomorrow, Chelsea and I headed out for some fun with friends. Hey, there are some things more important that packing closets, right? We wound up watching some Mythbusters, busting some maggots and catching the middle of "Tomcats" before the kids announced they wanted to hit the pool.
Oh. My. God. I haven't had that much fun in forever. We had the girls tooling around the pool on their kickboards, and I've finally got Chelsea swimming! It was a big moment. We couldn't even get her off the ladder next year, so I was a little worried about my ability to fulfill my promise to have her swimming without a floatie this year. I shouldn't have been. She hit the water like a fish this year. She's finallys swimming! Oh, only for small stretches-one or two feet, tops, before her feet go down in the water. But she's doing it! I was so excited, and it was so great to actually have people to celebrate with. Then Chelsea's friend wanted to try swimming, and she's picking it up fast! I was impressed!
Four temper tantrums later we were out of the pool and on our way back to the house. I wound up bringing all of the kids home with me, and their dad showed up with the makings of cheesy french fries and chicken nuggets in tow. I could have wept at his feet in gratitude. We made up dinner, hooked the kids up with some popcorn and a movie and retreated upstairs with two plates of loaded french fries and the seventh season of Buffy. It was awesome. It was so nice to just spend a day hanging out, not desperately trying to work my butt off to fit 30 hours of "stuff" into 24 hours of day.
A half an hour of bonding time with a lavender candle, a microblog and two blog posts later (I post at the WitchSchool site as well) I'm feeling good, if exhausted from a day at the pool, and very, very ready for bed. I finally found a little peace. I think I'm going to drink up a little more, then head for bed. Tomorrow's going to be a very, very big day.
Peace out y'all.