Summer is supposed to be relaxed, right? Someone must have forgotten to text me the reminder. It’s a good thing I have a seven year old who reminded me of this fact yesterday. To catch you up to speed, you should know I’m a type A person who finds simply sitting around to relax absolutely dreary. I will sit to read a book, but the book has to be darn good to keep me in that chair. With this in mind, I am a planner and I planned out my children’s summer activities, so they would have a fun pact fantastic summer. Apparently, I get a little over zealous and I planned so many wonderful things to do and see we have run breathlessly from activity to activity “enjoying” it. Yesterday, as I dashed from a play date with my two children to hurry home and grab our swim bag I lost my cool and snapped at my children to pick up the speed so we could get to the pool. My oldest child said, “Mom, isn’t summer supposed to be relaxed?”
I forced myself to slow down yesterday after his comment and evaluated what I remembered most about the wonderful summers of my own childhood. These are a few of my memories: the sound of a roller coaster at Six Flags, warm pool water sliding over skin, dewy grass under my feet, warm sun on my face, cold ice-cream in my mouth, a blue sky as far as I could see, the wind in my hair as I rode my bicycle, greasy, coconut-smelling tanning oil, late night movies, fluffy sleeping bags for sleepovers, waves crashing against the rocks at the beach and the gritty, hot sand between my toes. Perhaps one of my most vivid memories is running through the corn fields at my grandparents house for hours then coming out to roast marshmallows and catch fireflies. Ah, the lazy, hazy days of summer!
I have a thousand more memories, but I won’t bore you to tears. The point is, none of them involve being rushed from fantastic place to fantastic place. My fondest memories are of simple things. I am going to make a point to slow down for my children. Today, we are going to go to the pool, bask in the sun with SPF 1000 and eat a belly full of ice-cream. Tonight, maybe we will go outside and catch fireflies if we feel like it. Later, we may turn out all the lights, cuddle up in the kids sleeping bags-I hope I can fit-and watch a movie, if we decide we want to.
I’m not throwing all my amazing planning abilities out the window, but I am going to let the majority of them take a vacation.
I’d love to hear your fondest summer memory.
Have a great day.
Julie Johnstone, The Marchioness of Mayhem