by Lovey Kaur, LCSW and M.O.M.
Every year, I walk into summer with a slight case of amnesia and a large dose of hope for what this summer is going to look like. As a mother that is just trying to savor the little moments with my children while they’re young, I feel that with each passing summer, I am racing an imaginary clock that is subtracting the already fleeting quality minutes away. I have been told, enjoy this while they are young because as they get older, they will gravitate towards their friends. And I’ve realized that is where the automatic thought to make summers pure magic originates.
The last day of school arrives and suddenly I find myself feeling like things are about to get lighter. The alarm clock does not have to go off as early as it usually does because there’s no possibility of missing a school bus that will leave and derail the day. The nightly scramble to complete homework and read “a minimum of 10 minutes” along with signatures to verify work was done and the hustle to make early morning lunches, all feel like they come to a screeching halt as we glide into summer vacation. The calendar that once looked like a complicated game of Tetris with school schedules, sports practices, and work events, finally feels like it is opening up.
As a mom, I find myself craving this season all year long.
Having grown up in the Chicagoland area, summer is the one season that always feels the most momentary. We spend so many months bundled up in our coats and hats, shoveling driveways, moving foliage off our lawns, and daydreaming about warm evenings that will be spent outside. When summer finally arrives though, there is an almost desperate desire to soak up every minute of it.
I want the slow mornings. I want the spontaneous ice cream runs. I want the middle of the day playdates with friends that stop by to ask if one of my kids is home and can play. I want the evenings at the parks that stretch into 8pm, without me noticing we are running late for the bedtime routine. I want the freedom that summer promises.
And then, reality taps me gently on the shoulder. Because school may be out, but work is not.
As both a mother and a therapist, I’ve noticed that this time of the year brings an unexpected mix of emotion. There is of course excitement and a sense of relief that things are indeed slowing down. But there’s also the stress that slowly creeps in. The logistics of childcare schedules, camps, work meetings, and some former clients that are looking to restart therapy all need to be arranged. Family members choose this as a season to host big events and we are obliged to go because, well, it’s summer and things should be slower for us, making attendance almost mandatory. Responsibilities don’t magically disappear simply because the weather is nicer outdoors.
I know I cannot be alone in this feeling. Many parents find themselves caught between these two competing realities. One-part longs to disconnect, slow down and reap the benefits of our short-lived summer months. And the other part is simply trying to figure out how to make the new demanding schedule work.
The result is an emotion we all know too well – say it with me – guilt.
Guilt that we are not available enough. Guilt that we’re working while our kids are at camps. Guilt that summer doesn’t really look as carefree as we imagined it would. Guilt that I thought I would be doing a lot more with my husband and kids but in turn it’s just a different type of schedule that sets us all apart during the standard work day. But perhaps summer doesn’t need to be this version of being fully disconnected and ever available to be memorable.
As a therapist, I tell my clients two-fold to notice when expectations are creating unnecessary pressure. Summer can become another area where we have set the bar impossibly high for ourselves and when we start falling short, it deters us from experiencing the moment in a meaningful manner. We start comparing ourselves to social media highlights, neighborhood parents and their families, and the new one I’ve noticed come up quite a bit – my own nostalgic memories of childhood summers going to the beach every day and staying as long as we wanted without a schedule beckoning it to end. It all just felt so slow and calm.
The truth is that children rarely remember summer the way adults think they will. They remember the random little moments that took them by surprise or where they giggled a little too hard. They will remember the popsicle that melted down their arm. They will remember the sprinkler in the backyard on a Tuesday night. They will remember the time you watched a movie on the deck instead of indoors. They will remember the library run where you asked them to join a summer challenge and they found themselves competing with their sibling to “see who finishes the same book first.” They will remember a conversation you had with them about how camp went and only memory they have of a summer long camp is the one camp counselor who spoke in a British accent. The moments of connection that stick out to them aren’t necessarily the big events. It’s usually something whimsical or odd that usually stays vividly fresh in their memories for a long time.
And, they remember us. How we made them feel after work. How we were maybe tired but still did the family walk at 730pm.
Not the perfectly curated summer schedule of big events.
Just us. Making mundane memories a little extra special by being present.
This summer, I am reminding myself that it is okay if every day isn’t packed with an adventure. It’s okay if work still needs my attention. It’s okay if some days are just plain ordinary.
Because maybe, just maybe, the beauty of summer is not that it’s an opportunity to do more. Maybe it’s the beauty of allowing ourselves permission to slow down enough to notice what is already happening around us.
The warm evenings on the deck eating ice cream that our toddler insisted is “very healthy.”
The laughter from our home drifting out of an open window.
The ability to get our hands into soil and just play.
The extra hour spent outside before bedtime.
The simple moments that remind us why we waited all year for this particular season to arrive.
And if you’re a fellow working parent trying to balance a dreamy summer with real life obligations, know that you are not alone. Most of us are figuring it out as we go and we can savor the moments that are already naturally happening.
Here’s to a summer of sunscreen covered faces, impromptu backyard activities, schedules that we still need to make, showing up at work with smiles on our faces because we find purpose in it as well and of course, finding joy in the middle of it all.