I’ve realized I approach summers with the kids like a New Year’s resolution. Every year, as it creeps closer to the end of school I begin to visualize our perfect summer. I imagine me doing all the right things with the kiddles; giving them an exciting summer where I keep my shit together and they reciprocate. The kind of summer that inspires a film.
That never happens. Instead, like any New Year’s resolution, I start off all pumped up and committed to doing things differently, then after a few weeks I find myself settled into my normal behavior. The days pass us by and summer comes to an end. I end up feeling melancholy and bummed that I accomplished nothing new.
I’m not sure why I give a shit. The best memeories I have from my childhood summers involve me riding my bike to my friend’s house, swimming all day or playing capture the flag. Never have I wished my mom did more fun or educational activities with us. In fact, that would have ruined our summers if Dubs had us doing book reports.
See why having a blog is so valuable? Through this process I have just talked myself out of being concerned with the kids summer. I was fretting over what I should plan and how I am going to keep them moving. They don’t need me. They want to be free. Fuck it, I’ll leave them playing on the street all summer until the lights come on. When they are bored I’ll tell them to head over to Leigh’s house.
Here’s to an easy summer,