Fall Is Here. So Am I.

I always forget how much I love fall until it smacks me in the face.

Like last week when I sent the boys to school in shorts, walked outside around two o’clock in the afternoon and decided, why yes, I am a horrible mother.

It’s chilly out now.

Rumor has it that some hotter temperatures await us later this week, but we’ve already locked fall down with some soups and warm, baked meals. It feels like it’s almost time to hibernate, and that makes me feel so good. Gimme a hoodie, some blankets, and a long book to read. Yes, please.

Also, my skin decided to go straight from All The Oily Summer Skin to Straight Up Dryer Than The Desert in the span of four days. No in between. No transition. No warning. Just oil slick to drought. This was expected, of course, and despite the 35-year-old Hormonal Change, which I have yet to fully understand, embrace, and write about, my skin did stick to this seasonal routine. I maybe could have withstood a change in this abrupt about-face. But, alas, sometimes we don’t get the change we want, but we still get change.

With the drying out of grass, flowers, the air, and my face comes a drying out and letting go of other things in life. I’ve felt really overwhelmed lately, and I recognize that comes from not taking time to sit and process the changing of seasons and the changing of everything with the flip of a calendar page.

When I’m super overwhelmed, I tend to (meaning, it’s just going to happen) ignore my own laundry, thus leaving my side of the bedroom in some kind of tornadic laundry situation. I recognized the situation for what it was late last week, but couldn’t attend to the mess until this evening. Our bedroom is now clean and organized. I once again feel calm upon entering. I look forward to heading to bed with windows open, diffuser on, and everything in its place.

All this to say: I am here. I am breathing. I am enjoying the changing of seasons even if I’m kind of tired and my skin hurts my face. I welcome change. I am here.

Fall Is Here

Remember These Things

Remember: Mother Son Dance 2016

Remember how neither boy brought home their permission slips until you asked them about the papers. Remember how they lied. Remember how you informed them that their classmates came home with them, so it would seem odd if they were the only ones without them. Remember how they came home the next day.

Remember how their eyes lit up when they found the new Superman shirts laid out on their beds.

Remember how excited they were at dinner with their friends.

Remember how they posed for pictures, without complaint. Even if maybe you had to offer a small threat. Details.

Remember how they beat each other with balloons. Remember how you grabbed some too, and beat them with balloons. Remember how your oldest son declared, “My mom is the coolest ever.” Hold that one close.

Remember how they all ran around like crazed children, free and funny. Remember how we, the moms, stood around and let them do their thing, let them have their one wild night. Remember how they ignored the “Electric Slide” but went crazy over the Whip/Nae Nae by Silento. Remember what songs made you go crazy when you were ten. Eight. Younger. Older

Remember the smiles from other moms, just as happy to be present with their young boys too. Remember the way pretense fell off and we all just did our thing.


Remember pulling your oldest son out from behind Hulk and forcing him to dance to “I Do (Cherish You)” by 98 Degrees because, first off, 98 Degrees. Secondly, that’s a good wailing song and if you’re going to slow dance with your son and wail a song into his face, that’s a good one. Third, it’s the first Mother Son Dance your sons’ elementary school has held, and it’s his last. So get those slow dances in and remember them forever. The next time you slow dance to any song with this child might very well be at his own wedding, should he choose to get married, so hold this one real tight, mama. Cherish it, to be punny.

Remember: Mother Son Dance 2016
I mean, maybe if he gets married and chooses to have a mother-son dance, he could, I dunno, SMILE? Maybe.

Remember that even though it was loud and chaotic, it was still a lot of fun. Hold that feeling of gratefulness for one little night of fun with your two little boys and breathe it in when the days and nights feel a little bit longer, a little bit harder, more chaotic, maybe quieter.

Remember tucking them in and telling them you had so much fun.

“I did, too, Mommy. Thank you.”

You’re welcome.