What I learned in June

Back in May, I tried my hand at sharing what I learned that month, linking up with many a similar musing via Emily at Chatting at the Sky. It was such a nice way to wrap up the month that I thought I'd give it a go again. Then I actually popped over to her site and learned that she's taking a break. I suppose I can link-up later if she decides to go through with her "What I learned this Summer" idea. Note to self: check out link-up is happening first, then write post. (Update: she did! So I'm linking up from the past here. July's learning will have to roll into an August post because we're still on vacation.)

Since I've written it out anyways, here's what (else) I learned this June:

Booking a hotel room in your own home town is still a treat, even if baby tags along. Over the last couple years, my husband and I have made two kid-free trips out to a lovely B-&-B just under two hours away, first for a night and then two. We were overdue for another minibreak, but leaving a nursing infant overnight with her grandparents is bit much to ask, so we settled for a belated anniversary celebration in town instead. We dropped off all three kiddos off at their grandparents' in the late afternoon, drove ten minutes to check in at our jacuzzi suite, got settled, and headed downstairs for supper in the hotel's dining room before picking up the babe for the rest of our stay. I wasn't sure if such a stunt would really feel like enough of a vacation to take it out of the holiday fund, but turned out to be a wonderful little break from every day life, just down the street from home. It was lovely to be able to get gussied up for a restaurant date without children underfoot, to exist in a space I wouldn't have to clean, and to let my eyes wander the room without running into the housework, yardwork, and home maintenance projects that forever clutter our to-do lists at home. We probably would have made more use of the jacuzzi without our third wheel, and there's no telling a 5 month old that vacation means no midnight feedings, but it was delightful all the same. I drive by that hotel all the time, and now the sight of it alone makes me smile.

A structured summer can feel secure, not confining. A lot of my brain space this month was spent organizing our summer vacation. July and August will be my longest stint yet of mothering all three children all day long, so I wanted a few cards up my sleeve to keep us all (at least somewhat) sane. While I usually look forward to summer as a time to laze around, a full two months of sleeping 'til noon, reading, and snacking sounds like a recipe for afternoons spent in a grumpy fog, a pile-up of chores, and plenty of low-blood-sugar-enhanced bickering to boot. Our summer isn't set to be packed, but I'm looking forward to our weeks of swimming lessons with cousins, road trips to the mountains as well as the prairies, visits with friends and family, and a week of day-camps, just to give us all a break from each other. There'll still be lazy days, I'm sure, and hopefully some playdates and late-minute adventures, but the scaffolding's in place and it feels good to have a plan.

An actual sore thumb sticks out just as much as the proverbial one. Early last week, I sliced the end of my right thumb, right down to the dermis. Thankfully, nothing's gone that won't grow back, but the wound is super sensitive, even through my band-aid/masking tape splint. I've been favouring it ever since, and still manage bonk it several times an hour. Holding it out of harm's way puts it out of my spatial recognition of where a thumb should be, so I'm forever jamming it against edges my hand would usually clear, and my babe is sure it's sticking out purely for her own exploratory banging. Strangely enough, I can still type, knit, and (sort of) text, but holding a glass or mug in my right fist is painful and changing a happy, kicking, flapping baby is a bit like running the gauntlet. I doubt I'll see that old proverb in the same light ever again. 

Happy summer, friends.