Written by Lee
Summer. It's my season. There's no denying it.
In 1976, my parents packed us four kids into a green station wagon, drove away from our southside Chicago neighborhood and headed off to the Wild West to start anew. The Wild West was Phoenix, Arizona where the sun never stops shining.
I was on the brink of my 9th birthday when we arrived to our desert home, just in time for me to barely be able to remember those Chicago winters. Any ability to withstand the cold was left somewhere along some interstate on that epic drive and now my soul thrives in one place only - under the warming rays of the sun.
So I guess it makes perfect sense that all three of my children were born in the summer. In the middle of long warm sunny days filled with ocean breezes and backyard afternoons. Becoming a mother was utterly terrifying for me and I think the heavens knew I needed the comfort and warmth of summer to welcome my first baby into the world. And the second. And the third.
Claire Rose was born on June 23rd, 2002 on a sunny quiet Sunday Santa Monica morning after a long torturous 36 hour labor. She is now my sassy, sensitive, stubborn, spirited 7-year-old who riddles my brain and melts my heart with her freckled face, her strawberry blonde hair and her mama's hazel eyes.
Phoebe Anne was born on July 13th, 2004 eight days after her due date and 16 hours after they first started the pitocin IV. Her entry into the world was the easiest of the three although my body doesn't give up any baby easily. She slipped into the world on a peaceful Tuesday late afternoon with the summer rays streaming through the hospital window. She is sweet, sensitive and her heart bursts with feeling and empathy. Creative, outgoing, and confident, she is a ray of sunshine herself.
Tommy Ryan was born on June 18th, 2007 late in the afternoon after another 16-hour induced labor. He was the child we had given the most thought to - "Should we or shouldn't we?" but in the end we decided we might regret not having a third baby and we knew we would NEVER regret having another soul in our tribe so we took another step of faith. And when we think that we actually considered not having a third, we shudder at the thought for he completes our family. Our 2-year-old son is all boy in his love for trucks, wheels, tools, and danger. I am head over heels in love with him and if I could eat him, I would.
Because summer is summer and life becomes big and robust in summer for me, I live it. I let it soak slow and deep into my soul so it can sustain me through the rest of the year.
We just returned from our first family vacation. The week we spent on Catalina Island off the Southern California coast was the epitome of summer. It was an old-fashioned holiday filled with lazy, lounging days and sand-brimmed caps and sticky ice-cream faces. With plenty of time for riding in a canopy-covered wagon, building castles for sand crabs and cuddling on a beach blanket at sunset. No theme parks, no lines, no agenda, no schedule, no cars, no car seats, no stress.
It was six glorious days where the seconds ticked by at summer's lazy pace. I could actually feel the hands of time slowing, giving me time to worship this season of life and the three most precious things summer has given to me.
My delicious summer babies.
Sisters sharing a secret
A boy and his "choo-choos"
Tommy's first pair of flip-flops
(yes, that is chipped pink nail polish on his toes)
Phoebe the wave-jumper
A tooth-fairy visit to the Island for a new lost tooth
A cruise to see the sea-lions
Sticky summer fun
What is there to say about this one?
Because summer is lazy, my blogging life is too. Thanks for reading and see you at BlogHer next week when I'm forced to come out of my summer stupor. Or maybe not.