I can’t believe the summer is half over. It’s going by way too fast. My kids just cleaned out their backpacks a few days ago, but school ended six weeks ago. And now we’re buying new school supplies. And we still haven’t cleaned out their closets.

What the hell have I been doing? Not writing, that’s for sure.

I’ve been spending time with my kids, sleeping late, just hanging around the house, the neighborhood. We’ve had a few playdates, done some shopping, gone out to lunch at Whole Foods (though I prefer Publix Greenwise) and swam in the community pool. The kids went to Miami for a few days for a shortened version of Mammoo and Poppi camp. I’ve worked some. Exercised some. Read a few books.

We spent a week-long family filled vacation at Caswell Beach, on the southern part of North Carolina, driving the 11 or so hours each way in a rented mini-van. More about that in my next blog.

Two days after we returned from the beach, my baby turned 10. A whole decade of existence. Of wonderfully wacky, intelligent, funny and, at times, moody existence. She had two friends over for a day and a night. They swam in the pool and played in her room. And we went to dinner at a Japanese Hibachi restaurant where they cook the food on the grill in front of you. Flaming volcano included. My 12 year-old son wanted the grown-up portion of filet mignon, and I let him have it. And he ate every last little piece. Then the girls slept over. And they actually did sleep.

On the same day that my daughter turned 10, our resident doctor friend, and frequent shenanigans cohort, turned 60. Not that you would know it by looking at him or by assessing his maturity level. I mean, he hangs out with me and my husband frequently. But we had to celebrate in a way fit for the auspiciousness of the occasion. A no-kids dinner party, of course. For seven. Cooked by my resident chef husband. Starting with a champagne toast and lobster and shrimp appetizer. Followed by a soup of red and yellow peppers, not mixed together but placed gently one inside the other in the bowl, beef tenderloin atop a bed of yucca and potato crisps, a baby Mache salad with beets and blue cheese. Dessert was a bowl of strawberries with a peppered whipped cream topping. Sounds weird but it works.

One bottle of champagne, 3 bottles of Anderson’s Conn Valley wines and a bottle of Australian fortified Shiraz (Aussie version of Port) later, we were putting on the XL Depends he got as a gag gift and trying out the handcuffs that came with them. I guess the idea being if his girlfriend cuffs him to the bedpost, he won’t wet the bed. Makes sense.

So today is Sunday, over a week since I’ve returned from North Carolina and two days after the dinner party. I’ve finally finished the laundry, from both the trip and the sleepover, put the duffles away, put the china, silver and pots and pans away from the dinner party and caught up on my mail and paid my bills. Just in time to do it all over again.

We leave in nine days for our two week coast to coast, grown-ups only extravaganza. (My kids will be on a trip of their own with their dad). But I’m not in a hurry for that to arrive. I want these next nine days to pass oh so slowly and I want to savor every minute of them. Summer is going by way too fast. Time flies when you’re having fun. And nobody has more fun than we do.