All over the map and engaged in just about every variety of activity except for writing. Oops. I have this theory about getting behind. It involves activation barriers and the fact that the longer you put off something you need to do, the more daunting the task becomes. The more daunting the task, the less likely you are to tackle it. There is the temptation to just move on. However, if you are (as I am) a conscientious procrastinator, that is impossible. You become your own worst enemy and there is nothing to do but surrender.
My distractors (David, Peter, Buddy) have headed south for the last of the summer’s fishing and blue crabbing. It is just me, my lap top and a nagging sense that there are things left unsaid…now where was I?
Way back at the beginning of August, 8/1/13 in fact…the actual August (our big boy) bid us adieu. It had been a wonderful week and it is always difficult to say goodbye. However, this time was a little different. I have been quite transparent in my attempts to nudge August back to the East Coast. And….I am happy to report that it just could happen. It’s been ten years since he moved to Colorado and my eldest son is not one to embrace change. So we are exploring this possibility in baby steps. But, I remain ever hopeful. And perhaps unreasonably excited.
Of course, even as I cross my fingers that one child may be moving back home, I am preparing for the departure of another. Master Peter Duff heads off to boarding school in a week. Every time I think about it my breath catches and my heart seems to skip a beat. After almost twenty nine years of hands-on mothering, this is not going to be easy.
Peter is just so much fun to be with. And I shall miss our daily repartee. The other day we were talking about hair. I finally found the perfect cut for me—I was sitting in the chair at Super Cuts, and my favorite stylist Tiffany had the scissors poised above my head. What to do? I glanced at the eight year old boy in the chair to my left, and decided I wanted my hair to look just like his. So, a little longer on top, and shaved to 3/4 ” on the back and sides. I like it. However, I digress. I had hoped that Peter would submit to Tiffany’s ministrations as well. However, he was still on the fence about whether or not he would simply shave all his hair off. I protested rather strongly (which, psychologically speaking, is probably the worst thing I could do. Mom doesn’t want me to do it? Decided!) Anyway, my effort to influence his decision went like this: “Get a trim and you are a handsome boy with great hair. Shave it all off and you look like a skinhead.” Alas, subtlety is not my style. Peter claimed my observation was ‘racist’ and Tiffany didn’t touch a hair on his head. Yet.