Unexpected Day

When I left for yoga today at 11:30 AM in my long black pants, red tank top and un-made-up face, I had no idea I'd be out all day, not to return until around 9:00 PM. It's good to live life unstructured enough to be able to accept social offers on a whim even though they weren't in the day's plans, especially in the summer.

We slept in and decided not to go to church. It was nice to be able to lie around in bed and be with the kids as they flowed in and out of my room asking me or showing me something. I got to physically stay in bed until I was ready to get out. As we were thinking of the day ahead, it was such a nice and rare feeling to not have anything we had to do today. Church would have been nice, but there's always next week. My kids were happy to be able to skip. David and I often start the weekend off or a weekend day off making sure we understand what the other one really wants to get done so we arrange our individual and family schedules accordingly. Of highest import to me was going to a yoga class and to David was getting some late afternoon work done. When I got the call from my friend GT suggesting we catch a noon yoga class followed by homemade granola, topped with fresh blueberries and peaches, and delicious, bold, French-pressed coffee, the day ahead began to take shape. I'd go to yoga while David hung out with the kids, we'd meet up mid-day for "whole-family" time, then I'd be with the kids while David did his work. That's pretty much what happened with a few unexpected twists and turns that lazy Sundays are all about.

The yoga class was great, taught by one of my favorite instructors, also a friend of GT's. He invited her over for post-class granola too so the three of us (plus his roommate) leisurely hung out while peaches were sliced, coffee was prepared and heaping bowls of granola were assembled. I have a standing telephone date with my dad every Sunday at 2:00 PM, and at 1:50 PM it was clear I'd still be enjoying my coffee with my friends for at least ten more minutes. I quickly called my dad and told him I'd call him at 2:30 PM. Even though I'd been there for over an hour, I still felt like I was eating and running when I hopped up at 2:30 PM to tell my unmarried, and childless friends I had to scoot. For all I know, they sat for another hour knowing too that they had nowhere that they had to go and nothing else today that they had to do.

I phoned my dad and began driving home. I went a back way and ended up in our friend's neighborhood where David and the kids and some other friends had gathered poolside for some swimming, sunning, and snacking. I just figured I wouldn't get in the water because I didn't have a bathing suit with me, but a couple of minutes in the hot sun watching my kids splash around, looking so refreshed, made me think it would be worth it to drive home to get my suit. Everyone talked me out of it and the next thing I knew, my friend who were were visiting (whose wife and kids are away for two weeks) had pieced together a swim top and unmatching exercise shorts that I borrowed. I knew I'd look about as glamorous as a tennis shoe beside a stiletto next to our size 0, olive-skinned Venezuelan friends, but I didn't care. Who was I trying to impress? When you're that hot and all you want to do is jump in the water and play with your kids, does it really matter what you look like? We swam, we nibbled, we drank, and it wasn't until around 4:30 PM that we realized our friend was expecting dinner guests at about 6:00 PM.

He didn't want us to go, and we didn't want to impose. David made it clear that he wouldn't be staying for dinner but the rest of us tried to tease out what to do: break the party up and each go our own ways, or pump the party up by cooking up enough pasta for all? You've heard the saying, "Mi casa es su casa." Well that's always how the Venezuelans treat us, so I was glad the overall mood was to survey what we had on hand, cook up what we could, and run out for anything we needed more of. I'm proud to say that before the dinner guests arrived, we all pitched in by either chopping the salad, sauteing the veggies, heating up meatballs, mixing up sauce, boiling the pasta, keeping the kids out of trouble, pouring the wine, and instead of one family man at home alone serving dinner to a senior couple on a summer Sunday evening, it turned into one family man, four very generous and capable-in-the-kitchen Venezuelan women, my two kids and me (all still looking like wet rats straight from the pool), working together to create a pleasant dining experience for the guests as well as ourselves.

All of a sudden we all became part of the family, at home in our friend's home, trying to put on a successful dinner with an older couple most of us didn't know at all. Some of us were better at making small talk with people we've never met. Others were happy to be assigned the role of watching over my kids, even if it meant eating their meals outside on the front step with their plate on their lap, as they supervised Johnny riding bikes and Grace asking lots of questions. We tried to do things right and sighed with relief when it was just the "family" again, able to talk and joke around not confined by the formalities of having company. It ended up being a wonderful meal and lovely day, and as I sit here and type this at 11:00 PM, I'm still in my yoga clothes, the outfit I left in almost twelve hours ago. I didn't know my day was going to unfold as it did, but I'm grateful that I didn't have a school assignment or essential errands that needed running, and that I could make the decision to hang out and yes eat formerly forbidden foods (like doritos and dessert...and even pasta!) with my family and friends that are so dear they feel more like family every day. I'm often sad and disappointed that David and I don't have family in town to hang out with and share Sunday meals with. It was nice to find out today that we, in fact, do.