
Since getting home at the beginning of August from our month-and-a-half long cross-country trip, I've been cleaning the house and getting back into routines. As I've regained control over each individual aspect of my normal life, things have started to feel less overwhelming. For instance, I've begun enjoying my garden, my blog, and my e-mail instead of seeing those things as something ELSE that needs my attention.
Even as I regained a sense of balance and control, it seemed like the trip needed some closure that I wasn't attaining through sum-up blog posts and deep-cleaning sessions. I thought about a comment I'd made to my mother as the trip was ending: "We'll have to wash the van as a sort of ceremony."
So I headed outside, ready for the ceremonial car wash, with rags and a bucket in my hand, and four swimsuited kids by my side.
We washed and we scrubbed, we scrubbed and we washed. It took a long time to clean the van because it was covered in bugs. The kids were troopers and kept at the task, even though it was hard.
I thought about fun days of washing the car when I was a kid. "Accidentally" spraying my brothers with the hose. Climbing on top of the full-size van we had (usually that was a no-no). And spending time with my dad doing a fun family activity. I was excited to give some of those memories to my own kids, including "accidentally" spraying them with the hose.
As we were finishing up the van, and the kids' interest was waning, it started to rain. At first the kids were concerned. They told me we ought to go inside, but I was having none of that. "This is a light August rain. Enjoy it!" The kids just stood there, as if they didn't believe me. I looked back at them and said, "Go! Play!"
And they ran off, playing in the rain. They found puddles. They slipped around on the grass. They got soaked. I finished up washing the van, grateful to not need to turn on the water. And I got soaked, too. It was fun!
It's nice, every now and then, to play in the rain. And it's nice, every now and then, when family moments really are paradice.