I'm moving my office. I'm leaving the space I'm in and claiming a long-vacant space right next to Heide, complete with a french door and a small little window entirely obscured by a generator outside. A step up? I don't know. But I'm the office manager (according to my boss anyway) so I can do things like that. I just wave my little manager wand and poof! New office! We're also moving several other employees, so this works with the whole plan. Besides, now I'll get to sit next to Heide and get cracked out on chocolate all day--when she's back from maternity leave, that is.
It's been tough getting back into the swing of things here at the office after week off. The nice thing about the week off with the kids was that in addition to moving and camping and spending lots of time outside, I enjoyed a couple of simple things that make the three of us really happy:
We went to East Rock playground.
Then we went to Dairy Queen.
On the playground, the kids scampered and wrestled. Sean introduced himself to a few kids and made some friends. Nolan hung back and jumped in to play with the kids once Sean had laid the foundation for it. (Then he stole the show. Typical. Sean does all the work and then Nolan walks in and charms the hell out of everyone.) I love that Sean is not shy. He'll go far in life with that kind of open attitude toward people. Nolan isn't shy, either. He's just four years old. As he gets older, he'll no doubt be very much like Sean, since he already is extremely outgoing among people he knows.
Toward the end of our playground romp, we hit the swings. Nolan can't stand them--they make him dizzy and sick. So he kicked dirt while Sean and I raced each other to see who could go the highest on the swings. After a few minutes on the swingset, the boys laughed at me.
"What's so funny?"
"You!!!" Nolan yelled.
"What is so funny about me?" I asked, swinging up, swinging back, swinging up...
"Because you're like a kid!" said Sean.
"Why? Because I'm swinging?"
"Yes!" said Nolan. "You're like a swinging kid."
"Thanks, guys! That makes me happy! Aren't you glad your mom likes to swing with you at the playground, or would you prefer I be a boring old mom who just sits on the bench the whole time we're here?"
"No! I don't want you to be boring!" Sean yelled.
"Mommy's a kid!" Nolan kept laughing.
I didn't get why the sight of me on the swings suddenly amused them--they've seen it a million times before. But their delight in it made my day.
The next night while camping in Rhode Island, we played a game of "Trouble" after s'mores. We were all bundled up in our sweatshirts, and my hair was in a ponytail.
"You look like a teenager with your ponytail and sweatshirt," said Sean.
"Thanks, kid. I'm glad to hear that."
"Mommy's a teenager? What?" said Nolan.
"Mommy's just the littlest mommy EVER," said Sean. "AND she looks like a teenager."
The last few weeks (and about 9,000 weeks before that) have been so full of responsbility: A new mortgage, taking on much more responsibility at work, planning for a wedding and getting two children ready for a new school year. I'll take my play AND my compliments where I can get them. Besides, I pride myself on the fact that I am playful. What's the point of being here if we're not having fun? It doesn't mean we have to act stupid. But we can play, for God's sake.
For this afternoon, I've got to get back to the business of playing work. But when I get home, the gloves come off. I might pay the bills and make lots of decisions about raising children, but I can still roll around on the floor and wrestle. I can still swing on the swings. I can still do cartwheels in the yard. I can still withstand 9 rounds of Uno with Sean (he's brutal) followed by a game of War or Slap the Jack.
My kids don't keep me from being bored. They keep me from being boring.
Here's the song stuck in my head today: