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In the past, I’ve made summer bucket lists and packed sunscreen, water bottles, and floaties. I’ve wrung out wetsuits a thousand times hanging them out to dry. The cycle of towels ran constantly in our machine, washing out the lake water and sunscreen, the places watermelon dripped down chins and pooled in the cloth.
We’d made memories in the spots on the calendar I’d cleared. I’d said no and fought off the filling of days as we hiked the wild trails of flowers growing along the river and skimmed toes off the edge of floaties.
Kids - Jump - Silver - Lakes - Arms
I’ve watched my kids jump into silver lakes, arms spinning like windmills, coming up sputtering and gasping with smiles almost as wide as their paddling arms.
This year, I misplaced the sunscreen and scribbled it on the grocery list. But I haven’t made it to the store. I haven’t made it much of anywhere lately. The floaties had tiny puncture wounds and leaked air sadly, deflating on our front lawn in a way that was all too relatable to me. We threw out the Orca and the bubble lounger with the cup holder.
Plans - Summer - Months - Book - Way
I had grand plans for this summer. It’s been three months since my book made its way into the world, and I was desperate for a break. Self-care is recognizing my capacity isn’t like everyone else’s and giving myself permission to say enough when I am at my limit. I needed to be a person again — a mom, a wife, someone who isn’t online all the time trying to promote her book, someone who goes to the grocery store and takes her kids to the library for the summer reading program and barbecues with neighbors and friends. Someone who rests.
But this summer we’re dealing with more than the mundane. This summer, we’ve been struggling with...
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There's no problem on the inside of a kid that the outside of a dog can't cure.