Its June, my son's preschool has been out for days already, and camp is still weeks in the future. What are working parents to do? We have patched together a string of activities, days off, grandparents and pure begging to bridge the gap, but everyday is a break from the routine which causes me intense anxiety.
The other weekend after a fabulous day in NYC visiting our friend (and Tucker's Godfather), 6 train rides in and almost home the engine stuttered and died. I felt my chest tighten. The snacks were long gone, juice boxes all drank. No iPad. No toys. Sweat forming all over my face. But as if sensing we needed calm, our son simply looked out the window, asked how we were going to get home, and then said 'its OK'. He has told me 'it's OK' at least a dozen times recently, which makes me first realize what a sweet, compassionate boy he is, and second, that perhaps my son already knows I am an insane stress case that can barely function in the face of the slightest adversity.
Instagram is filled with parents doing crafts, taking trips, and just enjoying moments frolicking in the grass with their tots. These images make me feel inadequate while I slave away at a desk in Melville for countless hours each week, and then guilty when on a weekend, I am eyeing the clock to know how many hours of entertainment I must provide before dinner. Often we have watched 2 shows, decorated many sheets of paper with our stamps, built and dissembled 2 train track displays, and its not even 9 am. I wonder how we will pass the next 3 hours until our play-date, or soccer practice. Then of course, the guilt hits. Because these moments are the life we live between planned activities, around the iCalendar, When its real life, and real life is not always an Instagram moment. So perhaps this summer put away the iPhone, take less pictures, and inhale more deeply.
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