Every year around this time I feel it.
The heavy weight of all the things I wanted to do with the kids but didn’t.
It comes crashing over me like a tidal wave.
Amusement park? Ha- it’s record-breaking hot; no thanks. Inflatable water course park? A 4-hour drive on a Sunday? Not this year my good dude. A magical mountain climb with an overlook of breath-taking waterfalls followed by a night’s stay in a see-through Airbnb dome? Nope, not in this economy.
EVERY summer I do the same thing at the end of the school year. I vow to myself and my little note pad, that I will, in fact, do all these amazing fun things this summer.
Then somehow it happens…
Days go by,
and then BAM, only 2 more weeks left before school starts.
The different hues of blue settle in, filtering my view;
I’ve gypped them again.
They didn’t get to do this.
Why didn’t we go here.
Awe, I missed that. Again…
And god-forbid I come across that “Only 18 Summers” Facebook post.
I want nothing more than to stop time and do all the sweet summertime things with my children.
But life, is life.
And in reality, there is a reason those “magical moments” didn’t happen.
Because someone was sick,
or I got a call that required all of me,
or that one thing that we committed to, that I totally forgot about until an hour ago, came up.
or to be blunt, I didn’t want to put up with the 5year-old’s bullshit that day,
Annnd to be honest (or TBH if you’re trendy like that),
I don’t know where making summers magical became the duty of the Mother to create.
The magic of summer is that it is summer. A place in our life where time is blurred and special moments stand out because they are impromptu and out of the ordinary and genuine and filled with laughter, light and love. That is what makes summer magical.
Not a list of items to be checked off to say; “We did all these things! Look at me. We did it. It’s done. Can we take our trophy and go home now?”
Tanget over –
I’m not just a mom. I’m a person, a human being too. Trying to survive out here while doing all the other things.
I wasn’t given this role as their mom just so I could create constant magic for them day after day. (and neither were you.)
I was given the chance to be their parent because that’s what they needed and it’s what I needed. (and the same for you.)
And when I truly look at the things that my children got to do this summer, trust me, it’s plenty. It really is. (cause think about it, wasn’t it though?)
I did enough, you did enough and those kids did enough.
So, do you hear me mama? You did enough.
Those babes had magic.
Because existing, in of itself, is magic.
Pfft and who am I kidding? I crave that school time consistency of schedules and actitivities, just as much as they do. It can be a lot and I dread it sometimes, but damn does it keep me in line.
I guess I am just hopping on here to say that I got that summertime, summertime sadness. And a major case of the End of Summer Mom Blues.
I know it will pass. It always does; jussst in time for me to do it all over again next May.