crawling toward respite

We opened up the pool this weekend.

AAAAHHHH!!!

I used to be a fan of winter. I still am I suppose, but back then, it was that I was a fan of winter as opposed to enjoying summer. Sure, I've always enjoyed my summer vacations, but mostly I watched soaps, shopped, cooked for the husband, whatever. As a season, I largely preferred winter.

I felt (and to a certain extent still do) that summer sucked primarily because you simply cannot cool down and if I'm naked and sweating but not exercising or having sex, well, that's bad.

On the other hand, in the winter you can layer. Bundle up. You can always find a way to "beat" the weather. With blazing heat, not so much.

But now I'm a home owner with a pool. And it's all good.

We put the thermal blanket on the pool last weekend. Nevermind that there were no signs of spring in the air last weekend. We were set. And sure enough, the pool reached a less than warm 76 degrees on Saturday and the kids jumped in and swam around. Yikes. I prefer to wait until it reaches a nice, warm, bathtubby 90 degrees myself.

The point is, we are now on the road to summer vacation. And now summer vacation means so much more than it did before kids.

Now it's long lazy mornings, sleeping in, waking up slowly to a cup of coffee and another chapter in the latest book while the kids watch some cartoons.

It's taking early morning walks through the neighborhood with my son, doing nothing special, no hurries, no worries.

It's taking evening walks with the whole family, doing nothing special.

It's eating outside around the pool, everybody a little bit burned, hair askew, swim suits soaked.

It's long days and nights, marked only by the rising and setting of the sun, weeks marked by family events, which only occur on weekends.

It's boredom. Complete and utter boredom.

Bliss. I cannot wait for those eight weeks.

We begin our summer vacation this year with a week at a resort where we own a "timeshare". We love this chain of resorts and had been to two others before purchasing. Once there, we park ourselves on the beach during the day, riding the waves, collecting the shells, ordering drinks--our son leans toward the virgin pina colada--before heading in for showers and a dinner at the restaurant. Kids go to bed, parents read and turn in.

Boring I know. But blissful for us.

I've come to love summer, and these days, nothing signifies summer more than a dip in the pool

Today my husband joined the kids. I sat in my chair and perused my magazine. I'm happy to wait until that thermometer hits 90. I might consider a dip at 88. But nothing lower than that.

more songs

Just to give equal time to songs eliciting feelings and memories…

I’m supposed to be working right now. Writing a report in this insane, never-ending year of school for my whole frustrated family. And I’ve found that my ability to attend to work generally (tonight excluded, obviously) increases if I plug in the headphones and listen to music while I work. It decreases ambient distractions…at home those include children asking for things, infrequent spousal television viewing, and increases my ability to remain in my chair. At work, it drastically cuts down on the verbal abuse spewing forth from the teacher with whom I share a portable (gah! A completely different posting and I swear, I’ve taken plenty of measures in an attempt to decrease it).

So one of the songs on my playlist is Still the One by Orleans. Do you remember that? It’s playing. For the third time;

You are still the one

That makes me shout!

That I dream about!

We’re still having fun!

And you’re still the one!

This song, along with You’re my Best Friend by Queen, are the two songs I play to think about my spouse. Because, day to day drudgery of life aside, I do love him madly. He’s the smartest man I’ve ever met. He’s the most loyal person I know. Generous to a fault with his family. Irritating as hell and not as funny as he thinks he is. But still my one.

We met in high school. My best friend was dating his best friend and my best friend wanted me to accompany her to a party at her boyfriend’s house. So somehow he was appointed guardian of me and picked me up at my house on the evening in question. My friend came to the door to get me, we walked out to his car, and there he was, leaning against his white Maverick, jeans, leather jacket, lighting a cigarette. 18 years old to my 15 years.

And I recognized him. I had been having dreams about him for months. This exact person, leaning in this exact way against his car, lighting his cigarette exactly like that. And I thought, “Oh! There he is, the man I’m going to marry.”

That simple.

Of course, there was that hurdle that he thought I was ugly to get over. Plus the whole thing of not liking me and thinking I was stupid. Not to mention that I wouldn’t put out.

So we dated for a few months. Then he made up some song and dance about having a kid in another country, blah blah blah. We broke up. Then he realized he actually liked me. A lot. More than he’d thought. So we started to date again.

All together, we dated for two years and four months and broke up in my senior year of high school, after the “promise ring” and all of that. Luckily (now, looking back on it), after I’d insisted on having professional pictures taken of the two of us in high school.

And I graduated from high school and went off to college, where I became a slut and got diseases.

That was nice.

Eventually I found my self-esteem and moved on to graduate school.

During all that time, we were buddies. Got loaded together periodically. All by ourselves. Hanging out. Making dinners. Touring museums. One time he visited me at college only to find himself confronted by a stoned peer of mine who apparently harbored a very possessive crush on me and confronted my spouse with a machete. That was a little ugly.

And one day, during my internship, I realized we were meant to be together. That he is my best friend. That we are stuck with each other, for better or worse.

And we got married ten years ago, after having known each other for twelve years. Eight years ago I officially passed over into having known my husband for longer than I hadn’t known him. I cannot really remember not having had him in my life anymore and certainly cannot fathom a future without him. Even though I find him more irritating than almost any other person. But today, as he made some silly joke that I was about to make while we were outside with the neighbors and kids, I commented to my neighbor that I love his sense of

But he’s still the one for me.

We’ve been together since way back when
Sometimes I never want to see you again
But I want you to know
After all these years
You’re still the one I want whispering in my ear

You’re still the one I wanna talk to in bed
Still the one that turns my head
We’re still having fun
And you’re still the one

I look at your face every day
Yet I never saw it 'til I went away
When winter came, I just wanted to go
Deep in the desert, I longed for the snow

You're still the one that makes me laugh
Still the one that's my better half
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one that makes me strong
Still the one I wanna take along
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

Changing, our love is going gold
Even though we grow old, it grows new

You're still the one that I love to touch
Still the one and I can't get enough
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You're still the one who can scratch my itch
Still the one and I wouldn't switch
We're still having fun, and you're still the one

You are still the one that makes me shout
Still the one that I dream about
We're still having fun, and you're still the one...