This summertime, this “break” moves at lightspeed. Can it already be June 19th? Say it ain’t so!
Mr. Ables and I plagued ourselves with an ongoing to-do list, and since we’re both major procrastinators (okay, I’m the put-things-off person and he’s the don’t-make-her-crazier person), it’s left us reeling a bit. We’ve got to decide if we are going to stay put in our house or find another one (which includes banks and realtors and the sort of adult-type things that make me want to cower under the covers with a Babysitters Club special edition), we’re trying our darndest to clean out and simplify (I love the idea of this and LOVE the idea of having a yard sale…so far, I’ve created a garbage bag of “to donate” clothes and that’s about it), we’ve finally made doctor and dentist and eye appointments…
But there’s rest, too. We’re growing a garden, and have enjoyed some kale and a few zucchini and hundreds of blueberries already…caring for a yard, having a plot of earth of our own, is one of the things we’ve enjoyed best since moving from Charleston (we always tried to grow container vegetable gardens without a whole lot of luck).
Also, Mr. Ables’ sister is home for her summer break from grad school, and it sure is nice knowing she’s just down the street and not across the country for a bit. (Silas likes that too)
The best part of the past few weeks? We are all together. For the first time since Silas was born, Mr. Ables is home homehome with us for an extended amount of time…and so now we move as a little unit. Today we all ate blueberry pancakes and it was so natural and sweet and right that I really didn’t even pause and think about the fact that it was a Tuesday morning and my husband was home with us and we were eating and taking our time and laughing at our silly happy baby.
And Silas boy? He’s ten months old…two months until I have in my care a ONE YEAR OLD. He’s already standing for bits of time—we call it “surfing” because of the wide stance, outstretched arms, and wobble.
Next up, a road trip—there’s not a more summery activity than that, is there? We’ll drive to Memphis, then Oxford (hello, Faulkner’s house!), Birmingham (Mr. Ables has never seen where I went to college. Ever. Plus, Birmingham’s awesome and I can’t wait to show my guys around a bit…dreaming of meltaways from Savage’s Bakery, Chez Lulu coffee, drinks at the Garage, and lots of memory-lane meandering), and Atlanta before heading home. That much car seat time for Silas? We’ll just see how it goes. Here he is stretching out on our way to the beach:
(I’ll be better about clicking my camera and post some updates along the way.)
Oh, and hey—don’t miss the longest day of the year tomorrow:
"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 in The Great Gatsby)
And just because this post is already all over the place…here’s an awesome picture for you. Backstory: I planned a little Teacher Appreciation dinner for Mr. Ables at the beginning of the month. Here he is (all shifty-eyed and awkward) with a Chocolate Shoppe cookie cake, but the best part of the photo is our nephew the E-Bomb in the background having a grand old time in the pineapple casserole*!
*Pineapple casserole? you ask…and the answer should be its own blog post. It’s a Mr. Ables favorite so his momma made him one.
Which means for the first time since we’ve moved to Greenville, I’m on my own.
I went for a morning run, and as I panted up our driveway I noticed the nursery lamp was still glowing in the window and panicked: I left Silas inside alone!
No, Beth, you didn’t. He’s with your husband. You are alone. Remember alone-ness?
As I prepare to do some last minute Father’s Day errands and find a cozy nook to do a little writing somewhere, I wonder where my panic will set in. How many times will I stop dead in my tracks and then reassure my crazy mom-brained self that my baby is not abandoned, just not with me?
You know that feeling when you leave somewhere and you just know you’re forgetting something? Have a child and that feeling is ten times stronger.