Summer Lovin’
Everyone keeps telling me how much they love summer. The kids are out of school. No schedule. Lazy days. Long days. Summertime: bug bites, too much ice cream, big pores, charred meat, the lovely sounds of my tweenage children: "Mom I’m bored," "Mom can you drive me?" "Mom what am I doing today?" Oh my, when will summer camp begin?
I know that I should be breathing a sigh of relief that another school year is done. But there is something I like about the routine of the school year. Perhaps I will love the routine of the summer time…when I figure out what it is. I’m trying to squeeze in client meetings, work travel, reports, and deadlines and suddenly my children have "nothing" to do. I’m glad they are on vacation...because I am not. I will be on vacation...when I’m on vacation.
Managing my children’s non-schedule is harder than managing their actual schedule. During the school year I know where they have to be and where I have to be and it is coded onto an Outlook calendar that would make General Patton proud. During the summer time I don’t know what is happening until I get the phone call that instantly demands wherever I may be (including, in one instance in stirrups at my doctor) a pick-up to "hang" with someone (needless to say I was late that time).
When they were little I arranged the play-dates according to my schedule. Now that they are in-between there is no plan AND worse yet it is a non-plan I have no control over. This summer feels different too, as my kids, who are both moving up to new schools (middle and high school, respectively) are no longer just little kids satisfied with playing in the sprinkler. No, they are tweenagers with lots of new friends. And these new kids are texting and FaceBooking and e-mailing. AND these "new" kids are kids I don’t know. When my fourteen year-old said to me, "You don’t get to pick my friends any more," I knew it was going to be a long summer.
Uh, yes I do. I want to proudly be known as the strict mother, who won’t let you stay up all night just because it is summer (because then you are a bear the next day just like when you were little). I want to strut my stuff as the mother with rules about who you hang with and how long you can do it for (just like when I told you couldn’t have a play-date in second grade with the kid who showed you his father’s gun). I want to make you work — even though you are fourteen and it is hard to find a job. I’ll help you find a volunteer position to give something back (like when I used to make you work on school days off with your Dad).
At least I’m consistent. At least you know who I am. We can laugh about how strict I was when you are in your 40’s and you are successfully paying for my nursing home. Sure, I know that summer time is all about popsicles and calamine lotion and sweating through the long days. But I also know it is about remembering you are growing up and Mom and Dad still do know best.
I love my kids and I love that summer is here. And fun will be had when they leave for sleep away camp and can choose not to shower or make their bed or follow any rules for three whole weeks. Fun will be had making s'mores at night as a family and hanging in the hammock. Fun will be had with friends (those I approve of). And fun will be had when we are together as a family on vacation — all of us. After that, it is back to the gulag of growing up. Forget camp...let’s be honest, I can’t wait for the first day of school.
Author: Pamela Sherman
The Suburban Outlaw
www.suburbanoutlaw.com
