August is a cruel, cruel month. It taunts and teases with little whip lashes of fall while still oozing forget-me-not notes of summer. For those of us who are adverse to change, August is a cruel, cruel month.
Made all the crueler because one moment I’m shedding alligator tears behind sunglasses. While driving. While hoping the oncoming drivers will not take note of my weepy state. All because I’m still post-pregnancy hormonal. All because Little Friend tackles three days a week preschool. And it starts in a few weeks. And I’ll miss her.
The next moment, Little Friend is sashaying into the kitchen. “Mama, can I sit on your lap?” she begs, melting my heart and threatening to unstopper the waterworks again. Then I register the telltale skip-hop she gives as she waits for my answer. She has to pee. And she’d prefer to dam up the flow by sitting on my lap than by bothering with the whole potty-wipe-wash hands shebang. Oh the narcissism of childhood. And yes, I’ll still miss her.
I’m doing my best not to let the tsunami of new baby wash over me and recede, leaving a swept-clean slate of months in its wake. I’m trying to pin down memories whose wings still flutter with a bit of life, a bit of sun, a bit of summer breeze. And yet I find myself in August, waking up to a distinct Autumn chill to the air, driving down the road with a tear-induced runny nose because back-to-school has already arrived.
Despite the haze that covers most of the past three months, months in which I’ve found little to no time to reflect and write, still I’ve trapped memories beneath the trigger finger on my camera.
Memories of cousins united for the third annual Cousin Camp.
Memories of island breeze and family reunions.
And memories of the silly, normal, mundane things in between.
Such is the stuff of summer, and lest I welcome the chill embrace of autumn too soon, I’m going to say this is summer so far. If Little Friend can delay a potty trip by lingering a moment in my lap, then pardon me, August, but I’ll just squat here on summer for a moment longer, too.