Summer Vacation Countdown

And just like that, there are only 4 more weeks of summer vacation left. After the first two very busy weeks of summer break, full of antsy bored kids demanding more of everything, my girls have now settled into an appropriate summer mindset. They have ongoing games that carry over from day to day, have read through their stacks of library books, and have binged on their favorite TV shows. We've taken family trips, had tons of play dates, have visited the zoo and several parks. They've perfected their swimming skills, we've made homemade ice cream and blender snow cones, and I've put on more bedtime puppet shows than I can count. Both girls are tan, lean, toned from their endless activities, and totally off their usual sleep schedule.

We're noticing the back-to-school stuff in stores now, and the girls are thinking of what kind of school supplies they'd like this year. We still have a lot left on our to-do list, various outing possibilities I'd come up with before summer break started that we haven't gotten around to doing yet. We'll squeeze in what we can before the end of August rolls around, but I'm glad we're not keeping the same frenzied nonstop pace we were at the beginning of summer. Of course, the relaxed days of later bedtime and slow-paced mornings mean the school transition will be a shock to the system for all of us. Maybe a week before school starts I'll try to get us all back to early bedtime and early waking. Maybe.

We've had plenty of fighting in the house the last few days. The girls, now five-and-a-half and seven-and-a-half (those halves are so coveted at this age), have gone from whining, fussing, and bickering to wrestling, slapping, and kicking each other. Whether it's a product of doing too much or not enough, I have no idea. Maybe it's just from being around each other 24/7 since June. Come fall, they'll be separated almost seven hours a day and will have plenty to fill each other in on when they're reunited each weekday afternoon. I've tried separating them a few times a day, and although they each have their own room/books/toys, they simply refuse to be separated. Yesterday, at the peak of frustration, after the tenth physical fight of the day, I made the ridiculous declaration that for the rest of the summer they were not allowed to play together. They both cried: "But we love each other!" followed by lots of hugging and kissing that soon turned into another wrestling match. So there it is. So now I'm letting them fight it out with a little safety supervision. That's the point of having a sibling, right? All of those conflict management skills you rack up at an early age? So add that to the summer accomplishment list: perfecting the art of the surprise attack, self-defense, and learning when the best solution is to give up and walk away (or run to Mom, if it's the feisty five-year-old who is after you, because she won't stop until she has made her point--often with her teeth).

And despite the busyness of monitoring my kids' social schedules, I have found time to write. Thanks to my tireless Dad and step-mom, who watch the girls 2-3 times per week for a few hours, I've managed to finish a short story and start a new novel. I'm watching the calendar, waiting for the days when I'll have bigger blocks of time to myself for my writing, but in the mean time, I'm very happy with the progress I've made. And if I can just keep the girls from seriously harming one another, I'll consider this to be a great summer.

Summer

We're 2 weeks into summer break, and to be honest, I'm tired already. We've had daily play dates, swim lessons, and lots of kid requests for more activities. I've run through my usual toolbox of entertainment ideas, and it's time to get some new ideas. When your 7-year-old, who spent the first month of the school year crying about having to go to school, tells you she misses school, it's a clue that you aren't keeping her busy enough, even though we haven't stopped moving since school got out.

Last summer the girls were in summer school for six weeks, and it's a luxury I'm missing this time around. This summer we're living on a tight budget, which means free activities and no childcare for me. Having kids with me all day every day means they get to help me squeeze in all of those boring and practical errands around the park trips and visits to friends' houses, and I can tell you they aren't a fan of watching me clean the house or try to fix the broken clothes dryer or trim the dog's nails. I'm not sure what kind of parties they thought I was throwing when they were at school, but they seem disappointed by the lackluster quality of my days.

"Is this what you do all day?" my 5-year-old asked. The answer is yes and no. I had a lot more free time when they were in school all day. And only half as much housework. It's amazing how much harder it is to keep a house clean when there are two kids in it all day. You never catch up!

"Well, this and writing," I told her. They also promised me writing time. Then interrupted me every three minutes with questions and demands and fights I had to break up. So, the writing is mostly in my head these days, stored up until my precious few hours when their grandpa and step-grandma have them and I can rush to get it all down on paper before it evaporates.

Next week we have our first summer trip planned. Well, our only summer trip. Just a three-day getaway with my mom, sister, and niece, to a big hotel/casino with a bunch of pools. The girls can't wait. Three days of swimming! An arcade! An ice cream stand in the lobby of the hotel! My sister and I are looking forward to some sisterly bonding time while grandma watches the girls. And I'm looking forward to three days of not hearing the words "I'm bored" or "what else are we going to do today?"

After that, who knows? I have 9 more weeks to fill. That's a lot of play dates to schedule. A lot of messes to clean up. A lot more errands to drag kids around on. It's also a lot more afternoons of chatting with friends while our kids play together. More hot afternoons sitting in the shade attempting to write while my girls splash in their kiddie pools out back. More experimenting with making snow cones in the blender. More family hikes where the girls search for unicorn hoof prints while the dog runs his endless energy out. More puppet shows to put on with them. More memories to make so that when they are back in school I can miss them and their silly jokes and crazy antics and impatient morning wake-up kisses like crazy. Because that's how it is being a mom. When the school grind is 8 months old you can't wait for summer to get a break from it. And when summer is dragging on you start to wonder how you'll survive until school rolls around again.

What Now?

I made my crazy deadline of finishing the revisions on my new novel before the girls finished school for the year. I actually beat my deadline by 2 days. Hurray! The only trouble is waking up the next day, after all of those weeks/months of putting pressure on myself, and having no novel-in-progress sitting on my shoulders, waiting. I won't work on it at all while it's out with my beta readers, which is a good thing. By the time their comments come in I will have had a much-needed break from it and I'll (hopefully) have a new perspective on it and will be able to revise anew with a fresh viewpoint. But in the mean time, what do I do with myself?

It reminds me of when I finished grad school. It was a ridiculously busy two years of my life. I was working full time, attending grad school full time, and doing my own divorce, because it just killed me to think of hiring a lawyer to do a bunch of negotiating and paperwork that I knew I could do myself. It also meant that for those two years I had a grand total of maybe ten free minutes each and every day. I worked from 8am-3pm, raced across town to school, was in class until 7pm, headed home to log onto my work account for two more hours of work, then tackled my studies until 1am or so. The same routine every day, for two years. And then one day it was all over. The divorce and school part anyway, and a simple full-time job just didn't seem like enough to keep me busy to my new standard for normal. So I joined two writing groups, took a writing workshop to develop my master's thesis into a book, organized daily outings with friends I hadn't seen in two years, took a tarot class, chased a promotion at work, and started following about 10 local bands from bar to club so that I was never, for a second, sitting still. After I finished the workshop and tarot class, after half the bands had either broken up or moved to LA for their big break, after I'd had ample time to catch up with every friend I had, I did eventually slow down into a more relaxed routine.

This time around I have the benefit of having two small children, so sitting still just isn't an option. But the feeling of being in a race against time, of needing to get a lot of words down on the page every day, is still going strong. But after tomorrow summer vacation is here, and my girls don't let me write all day while they play nicely together. They need an activities coordinator, and most importantly, a referee. I'm sure they'll keep me busy enough that before I know it my beta readers will be done and I'll have a novel to revise. In the mean time I'll do my best to maintain momentum on smaller projects. I have three short story ideas to develop. Two parenting essays in mind. A novel I've never been happy with that I'm tempted to overhaul. I'm sure eventually I'll settle down and just enjoy the sunny weather and park visits with my girls. But until then I'm going to sneak in as much writing as I can.

Hugs

While I am looking forward to the end of the school morning grind come Friday, there are also a few things I'll miss about the hectic morning rush through breakfast, hair brushing, lunch-making, and shoe-finding followed by the inevitable herding of scattering children toward the car. Well, I probably won't miss any of that stuff. But once I finally get the girls to school, something fun and good for my soul happens each morning that I won't get enough of during summer break: hugs. Little 6 and 7 year old girl hugs, long skinny arms wrapped tightly around my waist for a good long squeeze to start the day.

It started with one little girl who gets dropped off every day and waits in line without a parent around. She always adored cute little Peanut, and soon she was hugging her each morning before heading into class. Then she started hugging Peanut and String Bean both. Then one day, after I gave String Bean her goodbye hug at the door, the little girl ducked back out of class for a hug from me. The next day she met us at the school gate for her three hugs and held my hand all the way back to the line. A week later there were two little girls waiting for us at the gate. It's grown from there.

The first graders in String Bean's class line up in two lines: boys and girls. Most of the girls wait in line until we get there, chatting with friends and complimenting each other's sparkly outfits. Once the bell rings and the teacher opens the classroom door, the kids take turns hanging up their backpacks on the hooks outside the room before heading into class. And a portion of the girls in line snake back around to where Peanut and I are standing for a hug before heading in.

At this point there are between five or ten girls who stop by for a hug on their way into class. Most of the girls I know, either from play dates or from volunteering in class, but there is one newcomer that I've never worked with before who doesn't speak much English, but calls me "pretend mommy" and gets in the hugging line a couple of times before heading into class. She changed schools about a month ago and had a hard time adjusting. She cried every morning in line, much as String Bean did in the beginning of school, until she joined the hugging line. It's the best way to start the day, sending her off with a little love, brightening her morning and mine. I haven't seen her cry a single time since she joined our little morning love fest.

String Bean struggled with the hugging line at first, not wanting to share me with her classmates. She went through a phase of elbowing the girls aside, guarding me. But then she accepted it as a mark of pride that her friends like to hug me. She's gone from being wallflower to confident seven-year-old this school year, and managing the hugging line each morning is a job she's come to embrace. It gives her a feeling of popularity by association, and I can see how that makes her smile. But she still makes sure that she gets the first, last, and most hugs of them all.

I don't know what will happen next year. Do second graders hug moms before heading into class? Will any of these girls even be in String Bean's class next year? I'm not sure. So I'm going to enjoy my last few days of morning hugs, and hang onto that warm fuzzy feeling as hard as I can.

Scrambling

So, my girls have exactly 7 days of school left this year. That means 7 days of writing left for me. Not that  I won't write at all this summer, but it won't be the same daily affair that it's been lately. I've been on a mission to get my latest novel done and revised so that I can send my second (or third, or fourth) draft out to my trusted beta readers for feedback. While they have the novel, I'll be hitting up local parks with my kids and trying to read a few of the dozen books sitting on my nightstand waiting for me. I might also try writing a few new short stories. And a screenplay or two.

The truth is, I'm terrified of losing the momentum that I've built up this school year. I'm ready for summer: for play dates and homemade snow cones and sleeping in and no more late-night lunch prep when I just want to go to bed, and no more standing over my kids forcing them to do tedious homework assignments. But I'm also sad to give up my daily block of a few hours to myself, and my guaranteed daily writing time.

My dad and step-mom have graciously offered to watch my girls a couple times a week, for a few hours each time, so that I can have some dedicated writing time. I intend to use that time well. Discipline hasn't really been an issue for me. I work well under pressure. Often, the less time I have, the more effectively I use that time. That's been one of my most important lessons to learn as a writer: carve out the time, and guard it. No phone calls, no internet, no email, no texts. Just write, for however long I can. I'm frequently at the tail-end of my three-hour writing block, watching the clock, counting how many minutes it'll take me to get home to relieve my babysitters, typing those last few words as fast as I can. And that's my happy place, racing the clock with my words.

Two writing breaks a week is a lot less than I've had this school year, but that's exactly what I started with when I got back to writing a few years ago. And at that pace I wrote a novel in four months. Two and a half years later I have five novels plus twenty-something short stories done. They aren't all good, and they won't all make the cut of revision rounds and beta-readers and agent/literary journal submissions. But they all mattered. Every single word, every second of time I gave to myself. I've had nine stories published or accepted for publication, and nine agents are currently looking at one of my novels. It isn't just a dream anymore, this writer thing. It's actually happening. And I don't want to let it go.

I'm almost ready for summer. But first I have 7 more days of writing. And I'm going to make the most of each of them, watching the clock as it gets closer to pick-up time at school, scrambling to get those last few words down before I have to go.

Vacation

One of the hardest things for me to master as a single mom has been vacationing. Not just the epic packing battles with two little girls who only want to bring 3 swim suits and 5 sundresses even when it's a snow trip, but the logistics of traveling alone with two small kids, and frequently a dog as well: all of those contingency plans and nerve-wracking crowded airports or hopes that the car doesn't break down en route to some hours-away destination.

Last summer was my first time driving to our family's cabin, 4.5 hours away, through hot valley towns and up into the Sierras, finishing with a 45 minute trek along a rutted dirt logging road, with two girls and a dog. There were bathroom breaks, dog water breaks, snack breaks, general runaround breaks for two girls who could only be happily confined to their hot pink car seats for so long. I stressed about the the possibility of having car issues, about the dog overheating in the car as I ran the girls into the next rest stop, about getting too tired and fed up with the back seat fighting and having no one to help me out.

I caravanned with some family friends that first time up, just in case anything went awry, and during the long drive I realized something invaluable: I had it down. This single-motherhood thing had already become second-nature to me. The girls had a bin of books and games wedged between their car seats that kept them busy for much of the time. We blasted music and sang together when we needed to perk up. I had a mini-cooler of food and drinks on the passenger seat, full of pre-cut, single-serve portions I'd readied the night before. I had a clear view of the dog sleeping on top of our pile of suitcases in the back, and could see when he was getting restless. When we had to stop in hot towns I blasted the A/C to cool off the car, then found a shady parking spot and made a game out of rushing the girls off to the bathroom and back to the car as quickly as possible. I lounged on random lawns outside fast food restaurants while the dog trotted around and the girls picked dandelions. I let go of my usual travel timetable, any expectations, and relaxed. And it was fine.

That's not to say I haven't had any travel or vacation hiccups in my year of doing it solo. We've been stranded with a dead car battery. We've had throwing up children traveling with borrowed bowls on their laps in the car. We've had the dog get into some sort of insect nest and end up with a face swollen with three baseball-size lumps and had to rush him to the nearest emergency vet. We've had a cross-country flight just days after Peanut fell and knocked out her front tooth and loosened up a handful of others, juggling her all-liquid diet on an airline in this no-liquids-through-security era. And we've made it through it all. And got some good stories to boot.

So today I'm packing up for our first big trip of the season. I have lists of all of the clothes, food, meds, toys, and dog supplies I will need. And I have the confidence, that even if some disaster befalls us mid-route, we'll get through it, we'll make the best of it, and we'll still have a good time.

And if it's really bad, I'll end up with a great story out of it.

The Post-Divorce Phone Tree

It’s a familiar sight at the elementary school: a mom saying goodbye to her kid in line before the bell rings, reminding him that his father, or his father’s girlfriend, or his father’s girlfriend’s mother, will be picking that kid up after school, saying farewell for the next few days. The look of anxiety in the mother’s eyes as the child heads into class, her hope that it all works out. It’s hard to share your child with someone you rarely see, even harder to trust that the fringe family members of that person, often people you’ve never met, will remember to show up, on time and in the right spot, to get your young child after school. And so began the post-divorce phone tree.

I’m one of the moms that lives at school. I didn’t intend for it to be that way, but between volunteering in Peanut’s class twice a week, String Bean’s class twice a week, chaperoning field trips, helping out with in-class projects and parties, having two separate drop-off and pick-up times each day for my two kids, and lingering around campus for after-school play, the parents, step-parents, even teachers have come to know me as one of the moms who can be counted on to be standing there when the bell rings.

As a result, I now have several phone numbers of moms/dads/grandmas who sometimes have to rely on virtual strangers to pick up their beloved children from school. That way, whether or not the ex-husband’s new girlfriend’s younger sister, or whomever, shows up on time and in the right place, the child is covered. My job, when it’s one of those days, is to hang around the kid until they are safely picked up, then discreetly text the mom/dad/grandma to let them know the child is safe, and who the child is with. It’s a whole new game, this modern, fractured family, but I’m learning fast. And I’m happy to do it.

I had a week where my mother and mother-in-law took turns picking up my children from school, and I had a back-up list of about five contacts just in case anything went wrong. That was easy, because I have a good relationship with them and they weren’t annoyed when I texted them every day to make sure all had gone well. But when it’s the new love of an estranged ex, or some even more distant relative from the new family tree, someone you do not have an amicable relationship with, it’s nice to have a little reassurance that your child is covered.

My closest group of mom-friends at school are all similar phone tree monitors, with their own lists of kids they keep track of for the peace of mind of divorced moms and dads, and the safety of children who sometimes fall through the cracks of divorced parents who no longer communicate well. Like minds have drawn us together. We’re easy to spot. We’re the ones on the playground after school, cell phones in hand, obliviously happy kids gathered around us, watching the gate for your arrival.