The hardest thing about summer is knowing how quickly it goes. Around now, at the top of June, the trees have become so full of green that they jostle each other for space in the breeze. School will be out in two weeks here in New York and the kids are vibrating with of anticipatory freedom. Oscar hasn’t gone to bed before 9 or slept in after 6 for at least three weeks — the stretching days launch him from bed awake and already thundering down the hall. We have little boys all over these days. Collecting good rocks and bugs from the creek in the front yard; leaping through the sprinkler, laughter streaming off smiles so big they break your heart.
It’s impossible but I try not to miss a minute of it. The prim little voice who likes to remind me how much time I’m wasting knows she’s been beat — there’s no match for the soaking sound of the sun. There are too few of these sacred days and I won’t waste a moment with tight schedules and complicated plans.
Oscar got a fresh trim today. I avo…
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