...the end of our first summer vacation.

Tomorrow is the last day of summer vacation 2009... Our first real school vacation for Meg. It has been short. In some ways we are all craving the return of some routine to our lives but in quite another we are already feeling the loss of our freedom. So in a show of true rebellion we have spent the last week in carefree abandon. Maintaining our late bedtimes and erratic eating patterns. I thought I would be using the last few weeks of summer to work ourselves into the routine needed for our early morning start at school. But instead I decided not to "waste" two weeks easing us into a routine when we should still be enjoying our all too short summer. Even tonight Meg settled into her bed after 10pm. And now on the eve of our last day I am wondering what we should do to squeeze out the last few drops of sweet summer nectar. It almost feels like a panic. We MUST make the most of the day. Like the last day should encapsulate all that is summer. A bike ride, a swim, a play in the park, a bbq and of course some ice cream. But what about the other part of summer I love so much. Doing absolutely nothing... A day spent in our little backyard, kiddie pool filled, camp chairs with cupholders and a fortrel picnic blanket for the kicky babe to squirm around on. I wonder what will win out...

I'll let you know.

...something that is sleeping.

I haven't done this in awhile. I am sitting cross-legged on my bed, computer in lap and remembered that I have a blog. This is how I blogged before Lola. Or at least when she still interfered with my lap and wasn't beside me (interfering with my sleep instead). My whole house is sleeping except me and my brain is racing... a few hours ago I had a million things I wanted to do and couldn't because I had a babe in my arms, a six year old that I promised I would make muffins with and a date with a zucchini or two. Now that I have my arms free and my house quiet I can't remember what it was that was so damn pressing. But I will remember tomorrow afternoon when my arms are full of chubby baby again and the six year old has me captive with some very intriguing story or high priority task.

I noticed a shift the other day. I am sure that I have been shifting (physically as well as emotionally) a lot these past two months but in my postpartum haze I haven't been able to recognize these shifts. Ahhhhh yes, I forgot one cannot witness their own death and rebirth.... I have been piecing myself back together. I forgot... I forgot that after you have looked death in the eye you turn to mush. So the other day when I noticed this shift it felt very surprising to me. I felt as though perhaps I had been approaching this new baby and new mothering very mechanically (much as I had the first 6 months of my pregnancy). Why hadn't I been mothering soulfully, why did it take two months for me to feel something noteworthy bubbling up from under the surface? But I had forgotten. Ah, the grace. I can open myself up to feel things and know things on a soul level again because I don't have to protect the raw flesh of my being as fiercely. I wasn't a shallow mama, just going through the motions and watching each day pass mindlessly. I was surfacing...

What was it that I felt shift? What awakened me to ask these questions and remind me that I have been on the hook? Crap, I can't remember... I know I was in the bath with Lola. I remember thinking "oh, this is good, I should blog about this"...

... the dog days of summer.

Oh how I love this time of year. The days pass timelessly and we revel in the length of our evenings here and find ourselves falling into bed only after the sun has made it's descent into the night sky. It is not uncommon for us all to go to bed together at 11 pm or later. On really hot nights we all lie on our bed with the window open and the fan on... eating frozen grapes and reading fairy stories. Without the rush of an early bedtime routine and the need to get up early to meet our academic obligations we can be free to live as our bodies desire. We are all late to bed, late risers. The first few weeks of summer I fight this flow because I have to work so hard all year to keep us in anything resembling a routine. And I fight the guilt until I remember that "early to bed, early to rise" is only an arbitrary virtue.

This summer we have enjoyed a little excuse named Lola. She has allowed us the opportunity to do as we damn well please and so we have! We have grown a garden and are now harvesting the rewards. We have travelled to the coast and dipped our feet in the ocean. We have adventured close to home, picking berries, throwing stones into the North Saskatchewan river, having parties, going to parties... And still our summer holds so much more for us.

We are looking forward to Folk Fest this week (Sarah Mclachlan and Tracy Chapman all on one night) and the arrival of a dear friend from Scotland on Saturday to give us the great excuse to vacation on our own turf.

All of this leaves little time to sit and write and I miss that but I will have plenty of time to catch up in the fall when the cool evenings bring us indoors to find warmth in our home once again. So I leave you with a few juicy images from the last month or so...

...a name.

I just realized I have never shared that we settled on a name for our sweet girl. I am getting settled back in to our routine at home since we returned early in this week. We caught up with family (my sister pointed out that this baby was only a month old and had been on vacation for half her life), caught up with work, saw the midwife (11lbs 5 ozs), and are throwing a six year olds birthday party. After I get a chance to breath again I look forward to a date with my computer. I want to answer the emails of all the people that have sent me their love and best wishes. And mostly I want to write. I had fallen in love with blogging. It was such a lovely part of waiting for Lola... Oh yah her name.

Lola Skye Dexie Walker

There is a long story behind the name and I will blog about that too... The summer is slipping by though and I will not be a slave to commitments when we have such a short sweet chance to feel the freedom of the long days of this glorious season in Northern Alberta.

...a road trip.

Road trips and newborns make it difficult to blog. We left Edmonton almost a week ago. It took five days and nights to get from the heart of the Alberta prairies to the West coast of B.C. Yesterday we made it to Vancouver. Our goal was to get the girls to an ocean and we did it. There were some sketchy parts to the car ride with a 3 week old that could not understand why we wouldn't pick her up out of that car seat. But there were some highlights for Meg. Hotels with pools and waterslides are at the top of the list. I forgot the cord to download photos from my camera so the visuals will have to wait.

...a few sweet images.

...a man I was honoured to call my father.

My father had seven grandchildren that were able to cuddle on his chest and know his love in the flesh. His eighth will have to rely on all of us to help her know him in a different way. This is what I wish he was doing this father's day with her.

Dad and granchild number 2, Sydney.