Getting in the swing of it . . .

I feel like my family just gets all the bases loaded and then the pitcher for the other team (who are we playing anyway?) strikes us out and sends us back to the outfield. Just about the time I start to feel like my family has got it together, a three day weekend pops up.  Don't get me wrong, we had a great Columbus weekend visiting the Fryeburg Fair in Maine, ferris wheels, farm animals, and fresh air for the day. Monday we dabbled at the coast for an afternoon of cool salty breezes, huddling in the warmish sand, and icy barefoot clam hunting.  At one point I just sat back and watched my family as they played.  I could almost see all the stresses floating away, out to sea like a migrating flock of geese.  It is Tuesday that follows that is the bugger.

Two out of three kids are suddenly transported back to beginning of school jitters and anxiety.  You would think the three days of fun and relaxed family time would refresh and rejuvinate them the way it does us adults.  But, nooooo, for these two all the relaxing did was remind them that they liked it that way, all relaxed with nowhere to go.  Why on earth do we have to go to school anyway??  Nothing like leaving a ghost faced little boy and teary eyed girl at their respective schools to make us wonder.  . .  Are school changes and early mornings the right answer for this anxiety riddled clan?

A week later though we were sliding back into the groove.  My son actually slipped in a few positive comments about his new school and how much more he likes his new art teacher.  My daughter was happily playing and engaged with her friends at pickup time all week, and am sniffles were on the decrease.

This week, I am still catching up from the three day break.  Had a monster grocery shopping trip, and am continuing the laundry battle through several nights in a row of four year old, nighttime accidents.  (She has a full sized bed.  All I can say is, there must be a better strategy for that issue.. .  My husband suggested a kid sized sleeping bag, then at least it is just one item to toss in the washer instead of sheets, blankets, quilts, afgan. . . oy!  She would be offended at pull ups at this point, and has gone months and months with no trouble, as a matter of fact, we seem to be already over this stream of curve balls.)  On the upside, we played hide and seek, carved pumpkins, baked pumpkin seeds, watched a movie, took in another weekend of brilliant fall as the golden foliage flamed against the violet hill tops.

Anyway, the way I figure it I will be all caught up and the kids will be really in the swing of it just in time for Thanksgiving. . .and Christmas. . . February break. . . April vacation . . .  Personally, I am waiting for the seventh inning stretch.



My Fall (first draft)

Autumn is the fancy word for fall, if you ask some people.
Whatever you call it matters less than that inkling of a first wisp of crispness in the air,
The bluer than blue sky against a yellow edged leaf on a green tree.
A picture perfect moment of flame red maple leaves scitter scattered on autumn green lawn, the
deep, grassy green we only see when the nights become cool and the sun soars low across the noon sky.
The minty scent of smooth skinned birch mixed with splintered, pungent oak, quartered and stacked near the back door.
The last straggling tomatoes, tastier than all the plenty before them and red veined chard growing- sturdy against the cool evenings.
The ominous orange orb of the harvest moon that warns of colder, greyer months to come.