La Vie Boheme

A few minutes ago, I looked over at Jon and proclaimed, "We have a perfect life." "Yes," he sighed, taking a bite of his fourth homemade, whole wheat roll, fresh from the oven, generously doused in butter and honey. Jubilee was happily chewing on a toy in her highchair, Zephyr was appreciatively devouring his roll, in a rare moment of consuming something that didn't require cajoling. That's the picture in tight focus.

Zoom out, and you'll understand why I couldn't help but laugh at our "perfect life." Crowding out the bread on our table is the toothbrush from Zephyr's dentist appointment last week, a paintbrush, a toy guitar from Mexico, a guido, the book Whole Foods for Babies and Toddlers (open), an envelope with some notes scribbled on the back, a cell phone charger, a checkbook, and a rumpled cloth napkin. Just behind Jon's head, I could see the basket of laundry I had brought in from the line, but hadn't yet bothered to fold and put away. Zephyr was naked and Jon was in boxer shorts. They had stripped down to get in the kiddie pool after an excursion to Lowe's this morning. Jubilee and I, on the other hand, have yet to dress today. Jubilee sports a bright yellow cloth diaper, and I'm in my preferred sleepwear of a black nursing bra and loose cotton shorts. It's 5 pm.

Welcome to Bohemian Summer.

When Jubilee was first born, I had a hard time letting go of the routines and standards I had established for our household. Three days without vacuuming the couches set me on edge; Friday morning would come and, lo and behold, Wednesday night's dinner pot would still be dirty in the sink, taunting me. Previously, I would plan meals a week in advance, shopping in a timely fashion to make sure all ingredients were on hand. Now, I could scarcely remember what we'd eaten the night before. On a good day, I'd sweep the floors, thinking, "The hard part is over, I can do this!" Only to be followed by three days of Jubilee not letting me put her down, and Zephyr wanting his rightful turn with Mommy as well.

I remember sitting on the couch, looking around at all the things in my house that needed to get done. Standard fare- books, toys, shoes, and clothes to put away. Toilets to be scrubbed. Mirrors to be cleaned. Then I looked at the beautiful face of my newborn, listened to the clever ramblings of my toddler, and felt the love flow from my caring, dedicated husband. I decided that everything that was really important was on that couch cushion with me.

You know that old cheesy poem about cobwebs and dust waiting while you rock your baby? There's really something to it. I realized that my kids will only need me, only want me, with this much passion and intensity for a very brief time in their lives. I know that meeting their needs will help them grow into independent, self-confident citizens of the world. When they're teenagers and want nothing from me but their allowance and the car keys, I can have a clean house.

To make myself feel better about the dust bunnies in the corners, I started telling myself that Bohemians live here. Why do the four of us sleep on a king-sized mattress on the floor, when it's too windy to sleep in the backyard tent? Because we're Bohemians. Why is there a can of whipped cream in the refrigerator, without a lid, that expired a month ago? It's a Bohemian refrigerator. Why haven't I taken a shower since Thursday, and why hasn't Jon taken one since...who knows when? Bohemians have different standards of hygiene. How could we possibly make a lunch out of watermelon and mango and a dinner out of bread and honey? Bohemians lustily eat what calls to them.

Being Bohemians has changed our lives in another way. Besides having more time to enjoy our children, we have more time to act on new passions, pursuits, and dreams. Jon is embarking on an expanded hydroponic garden which will provide us with lettuce, spinach, celery, and sprouts year round, and is days away from starting a mushroom farm constructed entirely from materials we either already had or found in Kamy's storage shed. I have a new obsession with tie-dying (if you wear white around me, I will try to talk you into giving it to me to, um, augment) and a budding penchant for cheese-making. We are perfectly content hanging around the house, eating good foods, smiling and laughing, talking about everything, thinking about our hopeful future while knowing this is the best time of our lives to date.

So be prepared, if you plan to stop by. There are toys everywhere, the bookcase is dusty, the mirrors haven't seen windex this week, and the toilets, well, you know how Bohemians are. But also be prepared for vibrant vegetables from the garden, delicious home-baked cookies, fresh savory goat-cheese, and (mostly) happy, healthy children. Viva la vie boheme!