Today was Kite Day at the South Shore Country Club, sponsored by Sea Side Kites out of Hull. The whole golf course was available to frolicking kids, dogs, parents, and kite-wielding crazies for three hours. A boatload of fun! We walked down from home (only about .3 miles, though you can bet the return trip seemed like 3 miles for those eight tired kid’s feet, not to mention their grumpy parents). It’s a fun event — not only a free place to attempt some kite flying, but free lunch (hot dogs, chips, etc.), face painting, balloons, and the chance to meet up with a half dozen parents like yourself in a noncompetitive atmosphere.
We finally decided on a kite to buy — the girls wanted a beautiful monarch butterfly, Cooper wanted a bloody dinosaur — but all agreed on a festive tie-dyed style. The wind was low, and while some people managed to bump their kites to another atmospheric level, we were low-riders. Ray tried hard to get a good run; meanwhile the kids took turns with the kite, raked sand traps, rolled down the green, and generally ran wild.
It was a somewhat late night, but we let Mitzi and Cooper stay up to play Sorry. Cooper won, Mitzi came in second, and we sent them to bed. It makes me look forward to this in-between period of childhood — old enough to clean themselves and stay up to play a game, young enough to, well, want to stay up and play a game with Mom and Dad instead of hanging out with their friends.
Since I’m so rarely away from the kids I don’t seek out extra time with them. But days — and nights — like this Saturday remind me how short the time is when we can, and want, to be together more than we want to be apart. I think I’m often in denial that I am a) a grownup, and b) a parent . I love being both those things, but a lot of the time I don’t prioritize those things. I mean, for crying out loud, my mother is the parent. Not me!
Times like tonight remind me I can be the parent, the grownup, and it is still fun. Being Mom doesn’t have to always be about me doing laundry or cleaning up or cajoling kids to put away their backpacks or yelling because someone hit someone else. It can actually be a good time.
It’s after 10:30 p.m. and I’m exhausted. But today was fun, one of those self-satisfied smiley kind of days, when you think you kind of, sort of remember that everyone got along, everyone listened, everyone loved and everyone went to bed with no crinkly sad foreheads.
It may not be a totally accurate memory, but it’s pretty darn close. My forehead? Well, that’s no measure. It’s been crinkly since age 5.
My face? A self-satisfied smiley kind of face. No question.