High season in Miami means low season for me. My body still seems to think I’m in Canada because as soon as November hits- the urge to pass out at 7pm comes over me and I become sensitive as fuck to any temperature below 28′ celsius. Joe’s re-opens (in fact, Julien marked “opening day” on his calendar this year #thelifeofJulien) and Miami comes to life again with fun interesting folk from the north, coming down to take advantage of our perpetual summer. Hey- I used to be one of those folks!
It’s a festive, fun time to reunite with friends you haven’t seen in a while, who still (questionably) live up north, and to hang out with the new ones you have become so intimately close to, via their Instagram accounts, all year. You eat delicious things for free, wear all of the shoes that your husband wondered when you would, get to carry your mortgage payment handbags, drink a few more glasses of Tito’s more often and thrive on ‘sweater’ days. (Side note: two weeks ago I saw a few people sporting their Monclair coats on Lincoln Road for fuck sakes…?!).
As a result, our babysitter spending increases. The boys take advantage of later bed times. We come home to failed attempts at making desserts (our refrigerator has become the timeshare of all refrigerators- accommodating un set trays of Jell-O, failed flans and watery ice cream like Quebec snowbirds flocking to Hollywood Beach), a slightly more disheveled house, and two snoring kids who will sleep in until 9am, which is great as long as it’s not a school night. But during high season, mostly, they are.
This year, nearing the end of high season- I have really learned to appreciate and embrace real true downtime. Spending more nights off the computer away from my constant work juggle and hustle. This has had a trickle down effect on all areas of my life. I’m more selective about the clients I work with and the projects I take on. I lay in bed with the kids at night a little longer. The dogs get longer walks, beach time and treats again. Mike gets more smooches and we laugh a little more than usual (and if you know US, that’s ALOT!).
I however, admit I feel guilty and pressured to finish things that I wasn’t able to during my hectic days- to complete tasks, to make my project lists shorter- but the feeling of downtime in my house pants (as Victor calls any elastic waisted pants)- just feels oh so fucking right. My body is still thinking there’s a blizzard outside DUH! And fuck- as I approach my fortieth year of my amazing existence- I realize that I’m just one person and that there are only so many hours in the day and only so much of me to go around.
So right now, fuck off mommy really is busy. As soon as 7pm hits- I’m going to continue to stay in from the snowy blizzard happening outside. See you May when all of the crowds go away and we get our city back…wait for me. I’m worth it…and i’ll be better than ever.