August 25

August 25, 2006

HAH! I am awake BEFORE THE BOYS! HAH!!! Of such things are the joys of the moment made. Of course, I have been awake, off and on, through out the night. Not sure what was going on but Xander woke at midnight, 1:30 and 3:30. Sigh. Then Tom, that miserable &*(@# woke up at his usual time, 4:30!!!! How dare he? (Yes, I am distinctly punchy at the moment, in case you hadn’t guessed.) I tried to pull the covers over my head but most of the them had migrated off the side and were trying, instead, to pull me with them! Facing the inevitable with eyes tightly shut, I rolled out of bed – thump, bump, hit the floor – felt that up through my feet! – and slogged off to the shower. Poor Tom has been told that he can’t take hot showers anymore (Dermatologist). I couldn’t stand that. How else is one supposed to get one’s eyes open in the morning? Oh, I know, one could go in the opposite direction – take icy cold showers. That will wake you up. (Grin, I remember the shortest shower my brother, Ian, ever took… he insisted on having a shower before we left the Adirondeck Mountains where we had been camping. The one up at the lodge was busy – lines of people waiting – and we needed to get on the road soonest. ‘Not to worry’ he told us in a lofty tone ‘I saw showers out in the woods.’ Now you have to ask yourself, why didn’t he wonder that no one else was using them? Did he just assume ignorance or stupidity on their parts? Ah well. Off he marched. About 10 minutes later he was back, hair still dripping. Without a word he climbed into the camper and growled ‘Okay, I’m done.’ Nobody said a word. Even we weren’t that fool hardy but later, when we figured he couldn’t hear us, Matt and I had hysterics. My father was sanguine. ‘Cold showers. Very effective.’) Anyway, not for me. I am a cat by nature. Love my comforts, thank you very much. No WAY am I taking cold showers when hot ones are available! So here I am. I have agreed to watch Chris today, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Should be interesting. What one can do with two children becomes much more difficult with three… especially if the third is not your own and therefore not aware of the family rules.
We did get the loaner car yesterday, by the by. It stinks of cigarette smoke and is still rather dirty but hopefully we will be able to get the Merc back today sometime in the late afternoon. The good thing is that the vehicle is large enough to carry all three car seats. Sigh. It is a truck, really. Xander and Jason were delighted. Do you remember when something that simple could give you great joy? I am not always sure that I do. I have my moments but there are times when I feel horrendously old – when I realize that I am so busy ‘taking care of things’ that I miss the simple pleasures. That is one thing that children are good at doing: recalling one to the simple moments.

The beach was a simple moment. I stood there, looking out across the storm tossed surf and felt the peace wash over me. It was loud there. A good loud. The sound of sea gulls was barely discernable against the breaking of the waves. The mists were cold and as I stood against the ocean breezes, I could feel all the tensions disappearing, sinking down into the sands. The ocean is good for me. It is my refuge. Always has been. In Hawaii, after a bad day dealing with Sanchia, I would go sit on the cliffs and watch the sea turtles dance. In Ireland, I would go down to the shores and laugh at the sight of the brave/foolish who had dared to swim the Irish seas. I believe in mermaids and the song of the seas. I have heard both. Reclining in a catamaran, piloted by an older Hawaiian gentleman, I heard the song and oh, the blue of it! It called and I very nearly went over the side into the sea. The captain grabbed my shoulder and when I looked at him in surprise said ‘I know that look.’ Oh for the blue of those waters again. The color was so rich it would stain your skin were you to swim in it. I miss the sea.

Jason also fell in love with the sea this time. He wants to go back again. Would that I could take him to the islands where he could actually swim in the water, where he could chase fishes and sharks and dance with turtles. Someday. Someday. Someday soon. I just have to figure the finances, is all! ‘I am collecting things for my aquarium’ he told me, a look of intense concentration in his blue eyes. ‘An aquarium?’ I said, slightly in shock. ‘We don’t have an aquarium!’ ‘Not yet’ he replied, with his sweet smile, and off on little boy feet he ran, scanning the shore for ‘items’ to collect. My mother laughed. Of course, she laughed. Everyone laughs at such things when they are not the ones facing them! Perhaps it is in sympathy… or perhaps in memory. I did have salt water aquariums as a child… And I have told Jason tales – about rescuing rainbow wrasses and lion fish. About banana prawns escaping. About epic battles between lion fish and eels. He comes by his desires honestly.

Xander was less interested in the sea itself (‘WET!’ he informed me seriously, pointing at the tide as it washed in.) and more in the seashore. (‘I be walk the seashore.’ He repeated to anyone who would listen. Then he would march down the sand, watching his foot prints disappearing behind him. At least once he tripped when a particularly interesting footprint filled with water and he turned halfway to watch. He collected rocks and shells and other interesting bits and Mommy carried his pail for him. ‘I be walk the seashore.’ He nodded satisfied. And when we left, he cried.)