Where has the summer gone? Lists of activities lived in my mind only to be shelved at the sound of the bus squeaking to a halt at the end of the driveway. Even with the school altering the schedule and extending the summer break to after Labor Day (hallelujah!) the gentle rhythm of summer gave way to the drumming pulse of the busy school schedule far too soon.
Playdates, river dates, biking dates, splash park dates (but oddly enough no date-dates with The Hubby) took up most of our days as we balanced the activities to entertain an array of kids ages 2-12. Catching up with friends, soaking in the sweet sunrays while watching our kids play and fight more like family than buddies. Scheduling around naptimes, weather and evening plans felt like a constant juggling act.
“It is not enough to be busy; so are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?” — Henry David Thoreau
Even then, we still managed lazy days of picnics, walks and yard games during those ‘dog days’ of summer. Though the gatherings with friends will always be a sweet time of remembrance, the warm, languid days relaxing in the yard, wandering the neighbor’s fields and woods, and cooking at the campfire will be cherished long after the kids have grown. Vacations are always a favorite, not because of the destination or activities, but because of the intentional togetherness that we share. All snugly roomed in a smaller living space, ‘forced’, as my 12 year old sometimes feels, to spend time as a collective family, no one rushing off to work or a meeting.
That’s how summer vacation feels as a whole. None of the kids are old enough to hold jobs or drive, so our days are largely spent with one another. Exploring together, playing together, working around the house or gardens together; hours of talking or dreaming aloud, unlike the bits a pieces we tend to get in between school hours. Mom stays home now and aside from the balance of various projects and volunteering, largely gets to devote time to the family. Gone are the days of managing conference calls and client conversations while simultaneously shuttling kids and babysitters to-and-fro. Giving more of myself to those temporary crowds than the little souls waiting for my attention. Having experienced that pressured existence makes these sweet days all the more satisfying.
“Each day of our lives, we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.” —Charles R. Swindoll
Time marches on and there’s no use in lamenting the days that have passed. Fall’s relentless advance is a reminder to savor the current season we’re in. The kiddie pool has been stored in the shed for next summer’s heat while rakes for the crunchy leaves now rest in its place. Cider has taken the place of lemonade while warm soups have put the grill to rest. The sound of the school bus’s whooshing brakes will announce the arrival of my little chaos-makers descending down the winding driveway. Ready to fill my mind with the happenings of their day and my heart with more memories.
