In a world where technology and connectedness trump simplicity and solitude, we’re far more concerned with the battery life of our gadgets than we are with our own battery life. Why aren’t we as religious about recharging ourselves as we are our precious iPhone or video baby monitor?
I mean, being a life-sustainer (aka mom)
can be is hard work. It is downright exhausting and often anxiety-producing to have a little, precious, breathing, growing human that depends on you…to survive…24/7. But just like the stupid video monitor I can’t live without, I need to recharge every once in a while, too. This past weekend I did just that. I recharged with a weekend full of what summer in Maine is about. Call it a ME-juvination. And it was a beautiful thing.
The little sister and her boyfriend were home from NYC for the weekend, so we dined on delicious homemade pizzas, wine and ice-cream sandwiches on our back deck at dusk while W slept. I had an extra glass of wine and said eff-it to pumping. Freedom. I also ate so many ice-cream sandwiches I thought I was going to puke. Reckless. We ate stupidly expensive and awesomely delicious lobster rolls at Fort Williams with W’s Great Grandmother. Timeless. We went swimming off the dock at Sebago Lake under the hot summer sun. Refreshing. The hubby stayed home with W so I could go to dinner with my family. So, I drove to dinner by myself with every window down, the sunroof open and Pop2K BLARING on the radio while I screamed lyrics to songs from way back when. Giddy. The hubby stayed home again with W so I did the same thing on the way to lunch the next day on the deck at Portland Lobster Company, where I drank cold beer and ate friend Maine shrimp while grooving to Lyle Divinsky. Soulful. As the band played another set, I looked out onto Casco Bay I took a deep breath. Mindful that my soul was full. Exhale.
And I couldn’t wait to get back to my little love bug ❤
So here’s to being as anal about my own battery life as I am that stupid video monitor.