I’m having a very summer vacation few days in Pennsylvania. Part of me wants to get on with my life, to get a schedule organized, to impose a structure on my days that includes writing and yoga and meditating and… I don’t know. Getting my act together, maybe?
The other part of me wants to savor the time I have with my niece and nephew while they are the age that they are. I know, from my (ha-ha) vast perspective as the mom of a 20-year-old that time with kids goes by much too quickly and never comes back again. A couple hours at the park, or playing video games, or doing jigsaw puzzles, is not time that I can have later when I’ve finished a book or gotten into better shape or even meditated my way into peacefulness.
That said, it also feels like typical vacation time, where you’ve got a plan and yet putting the plan into action and coordinating all the people who are involved somehow requires an hour where no one did anything in particular, but there was lots of movement around the house, of finding sunglasses and last trips to the bathroom and questioning whether we should bring snacks and so on. I feel like I should be making more productive use of those little windows of time. Or maybe just being more productive in general.
Last night, I went with my sister-in-law and a group of her friends to the movies to see Bad Moms. Wow. The theater was packed. With moms. Seriously, a Wednesday night in the middle of summer, and it was close to full and almost everyone in the place was a woman between the ages of 25-55. Women apparently want to go to the movies with their friends. Who knew?
The movie itself was sort of obvious, somewhat predictable, a little too obsessed with alcohol, crude enough to make my eyes go wide at times, and laugh-out-loud funny. It was definitely enjoyable, with some serious wish fulfillment fantasy and a feel-good message shining through the shock value.
At the end, M & her friends were talking about which of the moms they most related to. Sadly, I was pretty sure I’d be one of the PTA moms — the women with the need to do it right, to get it perfect, to have everything just so. In fact, ha, I did do my time as president of the PTA when R was young, thus proving my suspicion. But the message of the movie really is about relaxing and accepting that no one is perfect and that perfection is an unattainable goal. It’s a nice message to contemplate on this sunny summer Thursday while I debate whether today is the day that I get my act together or whether I’m going to go play video games with my niece instead.
Tomorrow is a nice day to get my act together, don’t you think?