This first week with no preschool is only four day old and my life is in chaos. The schedule I imagined, filled with reading time, quiet time, building time, is laughable. Struggling to fit in work around an unexpected day trip to see cows and pigs and cousins, I am weeks behind suddenly. How can 5 hours of preschool missed create such a vacuum? My mind swirls with “have-to-dos” like haircuts, empty dog food bowls, dirty sheets, walls that want to be washed, a car that needs to be cleaned. Then he giggles. He chats. He tells me in depth about a game. He teases me, like a big boy with the understanding of such nuances. He lifts his eyebrow, just one, he smiles his crocked smile when I question what he is hiding in his hand, trying to sneak in the house. A June bug, a real treasure he tells me because it is only May.
We are four days into our first week of the summer. Transitions are hard. The hardest one is coming. Today I vow to slow down, look for June bugs, plant more flowers. I can’t bear to count the days before I will be without that crocked smile, that raised eyebrow all day. Someone else will see his treasures on the playground. If you visit us, don’t judge our home by the state of our walls, rather by the happiness of our grandson. August will be my spring cleaning time, when I will mop with tears. For now I will smile my crocked smile at the greatest joy summer could bring.