Saturday, November 3, 2012

An uneventful weekend

This is a weekend so rare, it only comes along once every few months.  I stayed at home with my husband and kids both Friday and Saturday nights.  We had no fairs to be at, no campouts to go to, no sleepovers with friends, no birthday parties, no galas, no fish fries or spaghetti dinners or bingo nights.  Just us.  Hanging out at the house.  I hardly knew what to do.

During the day I attended a writing workshop, and Michael invited a friend over.  Victor and Isabella went on a father-daughter date to the Wax Museum, Camellia Grill, and Cafe du Monde. All lovely ways to spend an afternoon, but also very unusual because we were not together.  Plus, usually if we separate, we end up drawing the line by gender.  Michael and Victor might play frisbee golf, while Isabella and I go shopping.  Not today.

I sense a turning point in our lives that may have something to do with Isabella growing into double digits and Michael about to become a teenager.  They are becoming little adults.  We've always treated them that way because they are both old souls, but now they are responding in interesting ways.  It's always surprising to realize that these little people I helped create are not just mini versions of me or Victor but completely separate souls that have separate thoughts and dreams and a purpose on this earth all their own.  Sometimes I just have to step back and watch in amazement.

Did I use my time productively on these evenings?  It depends on who you ask.  We watched a lot of TV (together), and I played too much Settlers of Catan on my phone.  It was so tempting--no obligations, taking a little breather in front of screen after screen.  For me, the writing workshops take a lot of mental energy.  I was a bit brain dead by 5:00.

But around dinnertime, Isabella literally got in my face, in between me and my phone, and started singing and gyrating wildly.  It actually took me a second to focus on her, so out of tune was I.  She's not shy.  She tells me when she wants attention.  So finally, I put the phone down (why does it seem so magnetic?) and got up and danced with her to her made up tune.  We jumped around and mirrored each others movements until I put my arms tight around her and we jumped around and danced crazy steps as a single unit.  I held her tight until she felt contained, and still, until she felt uncomfortable, and I let her go.  And we danced some more.

Moments like that make life worth living.  So, an uneventful weekend?  Thank goodness we have time for them once in a while.  I hope I remember it forever.

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