Ode to Summer
We've started traipsing over to the pool with the frequency of last Summer's ventures once again this season and can I ask for a big hallelujah to that?
I'm a Florida girl through and through. My brother may pride himself on how much this state is in his blood, but it must be the way we were raised because as much as it flows in him, it's there in me, as well. I'm warm-blooded, warm-minded, (hopefully warm-hearted) but just generally, warm-weather climatized. I actually used to cry a little walking outside on cold Chicago nights, when the negative degree wind literally knocked the air out of my chest with a pow... when I regularly found myself wondering why in the world I had leather seats in my car for those years at Wheaton- it was colder inside my car than out. And snow was fun... for a day or two, until it turned slushy and brown... or yellow which was never good. And so being back in the Sunshine state, and especially when this time of year rolls around, my spirits couldn't be higher. There's nothing I don't like about Summer. I love it all...
I love the smell of sunscreen on baby skin and wet bathing suits soaked in chlorine almost as much as I love smelling the rum in the air when we go to Bahama Breeze, (which is the decided reason that the restaurant even smells like the islands.) Shaun's observation. Yeah- it's the rum, he said casually and obviously enough.
I mean I knew I had an equal amount of affection for the sound of both lapping waves and steel drums, but never knew I had such a strong affection for rum... just like I never knew I had such a strong affection for the lizards perched on our porch screen and the tall, lean palm trees that stand relaxed and graceful at once. I love them equally as much as the oak canopied streets and the thick green blades of St. Augustine grass that carpet the Summer yards. I love white marshmallow clouds puffed like popcorn in a deep blue sky. I love the reflections that sparkle and dance in a swimming pool at noontime. I love sun-bleached hair and white toenails that stand out against dark skin, tan-lines and freckles in all their splendor. I love flip flops and tank tops, sunglasses and beach towels, shovels and pails. I love water-soaked, shriveled-up fingers and feet calloused from the bottom of the pool and walking barefoot. I love losing track of time because you're floating in a time-warped warm pool with friends, and eating lunch after you've worked up a really good appetite doing nothing really... except losing track of time...
Mostly I love that my kids are growing up that way, too. I love that it doesn't cost any money to do these things, live these things. I love that this sort of freedom is- in fact- free.
An Ode to Summer. Long live Summer! God bless Summer!
I love that when we left this morning Evan couldn't hold Madalyn from the stairs as he normally does for me- "I can't hold Madalyn's hand because I have flip flops on." He said this like I can't juggle with both my hands and my feet, so lower your expectations, Bela Karolyi. I love that after a few visits of caution they've turned into fish again... even if it does mean I have to be sure Madalyn's not jumping at me at any given moment without my looking, because if she does, she bobs in the water next to me until I find her and for some reason still hasn't learned a healthy fear. And I certainly love my little umbrella stroller that I got free at Toys R Us with a big purchase my mom made because it makes the trek to the pool doable. I love that every time Evan got in front of the stroller today he said- in a voice that was enough to melt me right there on the hot black road into a big pregnant puddle- "Excuse me mommy- oh, excuse me!"
I love that he said last night after swimming, "I hurt my bellyflop...my bellyflop hurts..." as if it's a body part just like the belly button, and how he repeatedly said in a voice that was enough to melt me into a big pregnant puddle right there on the yogurt-stained carpet, "I'm sorry, mommy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your belly," until I was able to convince him that his bellyflop didn't hurt my belly or the baby- but that I had been worried he'd hurt his belly- which he hadn't. (He rather likes belly flops.)
I love how Madalyn can barely pull herself onto the pool ledge over her baby belly. I love the unrestricted view of all her rolls on display in her purple Hawaiian-print bathing suit. I love how she says, "wannagogin" like it's all one word when she requests to swim to the steps, which is really just a long, lovely float, arms and legs spread eagle with absolutely no kicking until she arrives to the steps where she climbs out of the water like a seal. I love how slippery and strong she is in my arms when we're there in the pool; dimples and white teeth beaming, wild and loving at once, and in all seeming presence and personality a baby dolphin in my arms.
Yes, ode to Summer! Long live Summer! I love Summer.
