Recently, some bad behavior in our house resulted in some days without screen time (i.e., no TV, no video games, no computer, no iPhone). While an effective punishment for the boys, this was also a punishment for me given the current state of affairs. Since I can’t leave the house and my mobility is limited, loading everybody into the car and heading somewhere fabulous for some fresh air wasn’t an option. I was forced to dig deep and think of ways to pass the time from within the confines of our tiny house with nothing more than a knee scooter and some crutches to help me. The days were feeling long and simply reminding the boys that they have a house full of toys didn’t seem to be having the desired effect.

That’s when I reached deep and pulled out my old teacher self…the one who knows the newness old things can attain once they haven’t seen the light of day for some months or even years. Teacher Me realized that–on the cusp of 7–Oscar is now old enough to play games like Monopoly and Scrabble–games I had been saving until he was old enough to do things like count money and spell. We pulled out Twister for the first time ever and shook the dust of the Jenga game that had been gathering dust in our closet for months.

We also pulled out some play dough made months ago and were pleased to find it still pliable. Sure these activities required a little more effort than simply popping in a DVD. They were also more fun, more engaging, more memorable. So…while I don’t begrudge myself the ability to do whatever it takes to simply survive this summer of limited mobility…while I was thrilled when screen time was restored; I’m also grateful for some days off the grid. I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to introduce (and reintroduce) my boys to some of the classics. I’m glad that we took the time to appreciate the joy of rediscovering treasures that had been buried for far too long.

It’s hard to believe that summer is almost here! While Chris and I don’t have a lot of expendable income, we DO have the monumental benefit of staggered schedules—such that one of us is always home with the boys during the summer. Fortunately, there are plenty of low/no cost activity options in Davis. We splurge on a couple of camps the boys REALLY want to do and then gratefully tap into free/cheap stuff the rest of the summer. We don’t ever manage to do all the stuff we plan but it’s nice to have a sort of framework so that—on the days the boys are bored or we’re about the throw them out the window ;)—we can look forward to some activities to focus their minds and burn off all that energy they store in their tiny bodies. If having a framework appeals to you too, feel free to repurpose our chart to fit your family’s summer fun! Here’s a link:

Davis Village Summer Camp-DRAFT

The pace of life has been frenetic of late. All of the end-of-school year brouhaha has more than caught up with me. It has taken me over, left me in the dust. As I watch all of the details I am supposed to be remembering rapidly pull away, grow tiny on the horizon, I am scratching my head wondering how exactly I got so far behind. And then there is today: Mothers’ Day. Usually I have already had a Mothers’ Day tea with my mom and siblings. Usually, I have situated myself well for a day of rest and relaxation. Today, I have a mountain of things to get done and little inspiration to achieve them. I am overwhelmed and just want to lie down and take a nap. Given that it is Mothers’ Day after all–perhaps I should.

When I get to feeling like this–all wrapped up in the minutia–I try to step back and survey the scene from a great distance for perspective. When time has passed–say 5 years from now–what will I remember about today? Will I remember all of the things I have NOT accomplished…the school shirts I haven’t ordered, the papers I need to look through and organize, the empty refrigerator that needs to be filled, the lawn that needs to be mowed, the sprinklers that need to be fixed…or will I remember the snuggles I had with my boys, the delicious breakfast we shared, the run with my sweet and trusty and deaf old dog. Five years from now, will my memories be filled with images of the laundry that needs to be folded or the beautiful cards, noodle necklace, drawings and paintings the boys made? These are the things that will go in the memory box. So why don’t I just start focusing on them now? Why wait 5 years to remember what’s important and let go of all the rest?

And so, to begin, here is the card that Boris made. It says: “Dear Mom, I like to watch TV with you. I like Jake [and the Neverland Pirates], Special Agent Oso, Mickey Mouse, and The Three Mousekateers.” It’s signed expertly in his 4-year-old scrawl next to a beautiful picture of his smiling face.

Oscar made me a watercolor painting. On the back, he wrote “Querida mamá, te quiero mucho! Eres fuerte y hermoso. Me gusta cuando juegas conmigo. Eres la mejor mamá del mundo entero. Con amor, Oscar” It means “Dear Mama, I love you very much! You are strong and beautiful. I like when you play with me. You are the best mom in the whole world. With love, Oscar.”

When I start to drown in all that hasn’t been done, I will pull up these sweet little love notes from my boys and cling to them until the sea calms and I feel that I can swim to safety. All of these things that seem so urgently pressing today are dwarfed by the knowledge that I am connected to two beautiful souls who–even on my most disorganized, worst day–love me and at least for this precious moment think that I am strong and beautiful and the best mom in the whole world.