Dog Days and Slowing down

Whew. We’re in the middle of the dog days of summer here, and I have to say, I’m certainly feeling the heat. At the beginning of school vacation, my kids and I had all sorts of plans. Over the last few days though, things have begun to slow down. Mornings start later, big adventures are scrapped in favor of picnics at the beach, and we’ve definitely had a few nights of pasta with jarred sauce when it’s just too hot to cook.

The garden is the same. There’s always plenty to do, but during some of these sunny afternoons, all I’m up to is picking the many, many zucchini and making sure the watering system is still running. It’s not even that hot! I’m just worn out.

I suppose there’s good reason. We got through the gauntlet of the end of the school year, just to jump into travels and visits, and then into getting ready for summer camp. And now it’s over and there are a few weeks of nothing. We were on a treadmill that all of a sudden is standing still.

But even as I’m standing still, I’ve realized how pleasant it can be. In a house with three teens, there are a lot fewer parenting requirements. Which leaves room for moving slower. For taking the time to try the tik-tok famous Watermelon Smoothie. For hosting campfires with a million friends at the drop of a hat. For running to the thrift store just because.

Last week, at ten p.m., my eldest asked Forrest and I if we wanted to go for a walk. To be honest, I’d been in my pajamas since 8:30 and had already brushed my teeth. But when a fifteen-year-old asks to spend time with me, I try not to say no. I remember a few years ago when the gravity in our relationship seemed to shift from parent to child. I remember realizing that if I didn’t make her a priority, she wasn’t going to make me one either.

So I slipped on my crocs and went outside, pajamas and all. The sun was just setting behind the trees (yes, at 10:00 pm. Seattle is weird). The bugs were out in full force, but other than that, our suburban streets were deserted. And we didn’t talk about anything important at all. But we talked. And we took a few extra turns to extend the walk a little longer.

And when we got back, we each went to do our own things. But now, looking back, I realize that by doing less, what we’re actually doing is choosing to leave space. Space for connection. Space for rest. Space for conversation.

My only hope is that I can remember that I’ve got the rest of the year to get things done. Right now, right here, my job is simple: to slow down enough to enjoy each day as it comes. Maybe not the easiest thing in the world, but I’ve worked harder to do much less pleasant jobs. So, if you’re looking for me, I’ll be outside laying in the hammock.