Lemon Drops

My somewhere over the rainbow is escaping me during these last stir-crazy days of summer.

Sophie is suddenly ten months old, which means first steps and wobbly-legged climbing. (Hooray! But also, heaven help us.) She goes on archeological missions through laundry piles and bookshelves and kitchen cabinets and the diaper basket, on her knees so both hands can dig, paperbacks and rash cream flying helter-skelter behind. Every mouthful of food glops immediately back out to be squished in fists, splatted on the floor, massaged into her babyfine red hair. She likes to play in the trash. She knows how to turn the stereo volume on max. She wonders what will happen if she unrolls an entire case of paper towels into that fresh puddle of lotion. I feel like a zookeeper, and a very poor one at that.

Meanwhile, Natalie’s in limbo somewhere between the exuberance of three-years-old and the self-sufficiency of four. School doesn’t start for another month here, so she wanders our tiny apartment looking for something new to occupy all this empty time. She’s good at relocating piles of toys, but not much else interests her these days; the August haze has sucked away her usual creativity. School will be so good for her with its structure and friendship and bright colorful learning, but damn. Another month?! Will we make it that long cooped up with our overworked fans and piles of toys? She has come to understand perfectly what “Give me a minute” means, and this swallows me in guilt, chomps through what little energy I have, belches up a mangled exoskeleton of my best mothering intentions.

This is the time of year when I decide enough with the hot weather already. Yes, I know it was basically yesterday when I was shivering in bed under piles of February blankets, begging summer to get here STAT, but we’re in need of some cool, swirly breezes. Invigoration. Just a touch of minty-fresh chill, and I think I’ll be able to see that chimney top again, one of those perfectly crooked pipes atop an enchanting blue Parisian roof, with my petty troubles melting away like lemon drops above.