Happy New Year...

Here we are, the last day of August. The end of summer always feels like New Year's to me, a time to shed the old lazy habits of summer and start a little buckle-down-and-get-it-together phase. (ahem...like getting back to posting on a blog after a no-excuses absence, she says, whistling nonchalantly...) Everything about summer feels lazy and languid; even the footwear hugs the ground a little longer with every flip and flop. An over-scheduled summer, desperately squeezing in every possible bit of entertainment before the days get shorter, can somehow seem slow and drawn out. I'm tired of relaxing under the big beach umbrella of summer. Last year at this time I wrote of the sheer potential that the coming season brings, and I can smell it as if it were a fresh-baked pumpkin pie cooling on a window sill.

Summer's end seems to make us all feel like we missed something, like we didn't get to that one place that would erase all the year's stress and crazy. Whether it's caused by a missed tradition because of changing times or a bad gamble on a new vacation spot, we come away from the heat of August thinking we blew our chance before time ran out. Even those of us not (yet) affected by the clang of the school bell feel like the sand has hit the bottom of the hourglass. I found myself sinking into that mindset earlier this week, and I forced myself right out. Yes, there are quite a few things I didn't get to this summer, like visiting the zoo or our favorite amusement park--things we talked about many times during the last few months but just didn't make happen. But I didn't sit idly by and waste the extra daylight.

I kicked it off with our annual beach vacation in Delaware--the one that, as of June last year, seemed like it wouldn't happen. Some traditions are just too painful to watch slip away, and even though there have been some changes in the last few years, this trip is one to hold on to. It's treasured time spent with treasured people. I'm clinging to it as long as I can.

I set a goal at the beginning of the year to read thirty books by the beginning of the next, and I put myself eight books closer to that goal during the last three months. Fiction and non, pop culture and cultural studies, memoir and essays. I explored them all. Only eleven more to go...

Because of limited resources and lack of substantial time off from our jobs, we couldn't really venture off to discover anywhere distant and new so we decided to explore our local offerings and stay close to home...whew. That was a lot of typing. I could've just told you we had ourselves a "staycation". Have I ever mentioned that I am not a fan of trendy, made-up vocabulary that inspire people to use air-quotes? Hmmm. I get it now. We visited the nearby town of Jim Thorpe and rode the train that wound down through a scenic gorge, took our girl to see a butterfly sanctuary, and splashed around in the falls at Slateford Farm. These little day trips gave us quality time and memories with each other and helped us appreciate our neck of the woods a little more than we already do.

I took advantage of the weather, early sunrise, and my still-sleeping housemates and began getting myself out of bed to walk two miles (almost) every morning. I found time for myself, something that does not come easily anymore. The combination of solitude and exercise helped me build up my immune system to fight against any blues that might have been trying to take over. And they did try to take over with force. I won.

I took my bestie to see Sheryl Crow rock it out. You know those party questions: what famous person would you want to have dinner with, blah blah? Well, I want to have Sheryl not just as a dinner guest but in my bestie circle. I don't have many inspirational figures outside of my personal posse of family and friends, but she is one of them. There she was, making us sing and dance in the summer night air after flying home to get her kid to school. A memorable night, and not just because I mistakenly sat in a stranger's car afterward. Yep, I sure did.

The last three months were far from wasted time. Yes, I worked more days than I had off, and yes, I didn't get to some things on my stuff-I'd-like-to-do list. I'm ready to let it go and pack up my tired summer self with the beach toys. I'm ready to begin my personal new year. I just won't be wearing flip flops.

Three is a magic number...

After a nightmarish holiday season in retail, I've been blessed to have a lighter workload the last few weeks. No holidays means less running around, shopping, cleaning, and complaining about how I have too much to do, and more time spent just hanging out with my daughter. Days off have been occupied with Legos, costumes, tea parties, and tending to "sick" stuffed animals. (Oh, and potty training. Endless potty training.) Envy and regret have reared their ugly heads--envy of the stay-at-home moms out there and regret that I didn't make sure I was in a position to be a stay-at-home mom if that's what I wanted to be.

My little one turned three less than two months ago. Three is a magic number, indeed. The girl I knew disappeared. I was not prepared for the transformation. Before the smoke cleared away from her little birthday candles, she had gone from helpless to independent, from sweet to sassy. She is ready for her debut, to show the world all she has learned in her short time here and to take her bows for all of her hard work. But the changes in her aren't the only thing knocking me off of my parenting pedestal; it's the adjustments I am having to make to accommodate her growth spurt.

Up until now, raising my daughter has been mostly maintenance, keeping her fed, warm, dry, and out of trouble. Steering her clear of things she didn't know to avoid, like too much sugar and hot radiators and bad television (sorry, Barney and Dora.). A little light education, like vocabulary and the arts and basic etiquette. If I wasn't sure about something, I could reference one of the hundreds of toddler advice books to move me along. But now each day's lessons are becoming more abstract. How to teach a little girl how to be confident but humble? Polite and considerate yet assertive? Brave but cautious? There's no such parenting manual.

I want my girl to be blissfully satisfied in life always. Most of all, I suppose, I want her to be secure in who she is. Comfortable in her own skin, no matter what that means for her. I want her to always be aware of her role in her life and the lives of others, and to understand her motives and directions. Kindness and confidence will come from this, and she will shine no matter where she goes. I am faced with climbing a steep hill to get her there, and I don't know if I am the best one for her to be tethered to, since I am still trying to get myself there. How do you teach things you haven't yet learned yourself?

Perhaps I'm overthinking. I will try to just go with my gut and get her to the top as best I can, and enjoy today hoping I haven't screwed her up too much for tomorrow. For now, three is a magic number. She is a self-proclaimed rock star one day, a superhero the next. Maybe I shouldn't be worried about getting her ready for the world. I should hope the world is ready for her.