There are five light bulbs in my house which need to be changed, weeds congregating outside the sun room as I type, and thanks to a suicidal bird, a crack in my car window which hasn't been replaced in its five month voyage as fractured. I've come up for air after a year of teaching so busy I feel I could have lost myself at that rate, continued.
I didn't start the school year with an intention to work so hard I would be too exhausted to attend to my husband or too overwhelmed to discipline my toddler or just so stinking lazy I couldn't whip up enough energy to climb atop a two foot ladder to change my vanity light bulbs. Good intentions can go awry, and as I look around at the aftermath as evidence of a workaholic mommy, I see a longing in my home, in my family, and in me to be fully present.
I love the energy of summer. Even without the luxury of teacher leave, we all find ourselves rising earlier. We're eager to play, laugh, and learn voraciously. Summer beckons us to clean up the garage and pull out those Frisbees for a spontaneous game. Summer tells us to slow down to visit with our neighbor when she's brought over the latest batch of hand-me-down, meals on wheels milk cartons. Summer urges us to tackle our goals--organizing photos, reclaiming my figure, and furnishing my house with enough decorations to convince people we didn't just move in.
I would tell you why I quit blogging or why I'm back or why you'll hear from me often now or even what I did while I was "away", but none of that matters.
I've got a ladder to climb.