Have you heard that Nat King Cole song, "Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer"?
It's a happy little ditty.
A memory from my childhood.
Not that I was born in the 60's.
Just an album Mom played a lot around the house.
A Good memory.
We've had our share of those days lately. Happy days full of sunshine and swimming lessons and magnifying glass fires and water parks and carousels and pregnant, 3rd trimester swollen-ankled bodies and slumber parties on the trampoline . . .
I want my kids to have childhood like my own. It was pretty darn dreamy, idyllic. I seem to remember only the good things (oh, how I hope my kids do the same...), except for the one time my mom pulled me to my room by my hair. In her defense, 1) I TOTALLY deserved it, AND 2) I've dragged my kids to their rooms by their limbs before, too, bodies trailing behind me as I marched with reckless abandon, their pleas falling on deaf ears. Not that this is a regular occurence, but it HAS happened. Such is the life of a mother trying to do her best through the good days and the
But, summer . . . there's nothing tricky about it. Just bliss.