When you think you’ll have more time.

This last week before school starts has been a bit of a wash out.

And I had such big plans! We were going to swim every day, and go to the local amusement park, ride bikes with friends, wait for the ice cream truck.

Well, the ice cream truck didn’t come because it’s cold and pouring and none of that other stuff is likely to happen either.


And today was a nice enough day – I do enjoy a rainy day spent indoors. But what’s eating at me is the time I thought I had. I thought I had time! Long, sunny, lazy day to soak up some sun that will sustain us through the dreary months.

We always do think we have time. Time to take the trip. Time to have that important conversation. Time to show someone how much we love them.

And some things I will always have time for. I’m fairly certain that as long as I’m living ¬†and able, I will have time to do laundry. Or else I’ll either be naked or stinky. And there will always be time to do the dishes. I suppose in an extreme situation I could throw out the dirties and buy new if I had to (same with clothes). Either way, I have clean dishes. And I will always find time to find my next meal.

What’s less certain are all those important and precious moments, still hypothetical, that I set aside in order to have clean clothes and tidy kitchens. I too often postpone these desperately time sensitive tasks to impress bosses and clients, or the PTO, or my ugly inner mean girl.

This final week that I thought I had, and all its imagined adventures, was a consolation prize for me as I watched the summer dwindle down to its final weeks, and saw something pretty time sensitive on my Important List. Last week, I packed up my brood and carted them up to Pennsylvania for a week with my parents. They swam, and stayed up late, went bowling, and made slime. They watched the solar eclipse. That week was precious and pretty much illustrates why, in this reality, when we have no idea how much time we have, we must embrace the opportunities we are given in that moment they are given.

Of course, one week for my parents means one less week for me. And thus, The Final Week Crammed Full of Summer Stuff was born. And then rained out.

So, as I mourn this week that wasn’t, I also decide to hold tight to all the things that were. And there were a lot of things! This summer my big girls honestly and truly learned to swim. My oldest has a freestyle stroke that is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes. My middlest learned how to tie her shoes! We went to the beach with my brother! And then again with my in-laws! Ate what even the most liberal nutritionist would label as too much ice cream! We went for our first real bike ride! My baby went to Vacation Bible School twice because she was finally potty-trained! We ran through the sprinklers and rode roller coasters and roasted marshmallows! Not a bad summer at all.

And it’s not over. Even cold and wet, these last few days are precious, and perfect, and wonderful. Not really a washout (well, maybe a little), just a little different. And wetter. And colder.

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