Slowing Down is Hard

It’s a time of year that is supposed to move slower. There aren’t as many commitments (school, work, etc) but for some reason I feel like every day is packed. It could be that we’re just savoring the nothingness so much that we’re filling it unconsciously before fall brings routine back into our lives.  What I do know is that eight days lie between me and school, and I feel like I haven’t even dipped my toes into summer.

Addison leaves for Germany in seven days. This is the week of list making, packing, more list making, probably some more shopping, packing and packing again. It’s such a wonderful opportunity for him and I hope (and know) that he will be pouring himself into life as a German teen as much as he can. He’s thrilled and nervous, and I am, too, although for all the mom reasons.

Our town’s Oyster Festival came and went. Originally it was two days. I don’t know how the volunteers and organizers pulled off two entire days. Our one day festival requires three twelve hour days for me and I think I have one of the least mentally taxing position on the committee. It all comes together despite my Type A panic and ends up being a great time (even if this year ended in a major migraine for me).

And now we’re at the last full week of August. My classroom isn’t even close to being ready so that’s on the agenda. And there are the family pictures I wanted before Addison leaves. And there’s also the exchange student who will be staying with us for a few days before joining her host family. And a party to plan and execute. And that packing.

So this week, despite the rush, needs a lot of s’mores and savoring. And gratitude that I realized with was rushing to an end before it had well and truly ended.

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