There is much confusion around our house about when summer officially starts. The concept of being on summer break versus the beginning of the actual season of summer is especially perplexing to Hattie, who asks, nearly daily, “Is it summer yet?”
I’ll tell you how I know.
Everyone cancels everything in summer.
This may sound delightful to those of you who go constantly and look forward to the downtime. But if you’re like me, a stay-at-homer who pines for adult conversation, the simultaneous break from school, Mother’s Day Out, my beloved monthly mom’s group, and children’s activities at church and everywhere else means a sharp decrease in my sanity.
Ask Josh. He’ll tell you.
When I realized the other day that the 10-hour-a-week preschool program that Hattie and Christian attend won’t be resuming until September, I nearly cried.
There went grocery shopping. There went coffee with friends. There went time to clean without someone un-cleaning behind me. Most tragically, there went time to write.
I sent frantic texts to a fellow stay-at-homer that afternoon. I’m not sure I’m going to survive this.
Edy considers herself a first-grader now, and I don’t know how that happened. School just started, didn’t it?
As I sorted through the gobs of papers she brought home on the last day—the alphabet written and re-written, her numbers 1-100, cat-bat-and-hat rhymes—I couldn’t believe how quickly it had gone. I know everyone says that, but it didn’t seem so true until this year. Living by the school calendar means the years of her life suddenly have beginning and ending dates. First day and last. Start and finish.
One grade down, 12 to go.
It sounds like a lot, but it won’t be. Not if it breezes by as quickly as this one did.
And, again, I nearly cried.
I’m not sure I’m going to survive this.
Then, by God’s sweet mercy, a friend wrote. Like me, she’s also an author and blogger, and she mentioned how hard it was to find time to write between the sports and the kids and life’s interruptions. She could relate to my conundrum.
However, very un-like me, she wasn’t at all teary about it.
Instead, she spoke wisdom, “I don’t want to miss ministry because I’m too busy writing about it.”
She is brilliant, I tell you.
So that’s my mission this summer: to enjoy my kids.
To not miss this ministry because I’m busy with another.
To not clean when I can swing.
To not work when I can color.
To not worry about blogging when my favorite things to blog about are in the backyard, needing a good, stout spraying with the water hose.
Because if there’s something better going on at my house, I intend to be in the middle of it.
I’m not saying I won’t blog at all this summer. I may post just as regularly as usual. Or I may not. For once in my life, I’m going to attempt to be flexible.
I just have no doubt that when I get to the end of my time on this earth it’s highly unlikely I’ll wish I’d have written more blog posts. It’s extremely unlikely that you’ll wish you’d read more blog posts. (Except for mine. Which you should always read, and never miss, and religiously share on Facebook, and brag to all your friends about…)
Nope. It’s safe to say neither one of us will miss this very much.
So let’s not waste these precious days on busying ourselves with whatever it is we busy ourselves with. There is something better running around our backyards.
In my case, there are four Something Betters, and they need the kiddie pool filled up with bubbles right this very minute.
Mission: Enjoy Your Kids.
Because, by golly, we’re not only going to survive this summer, we’re going to enjoy it.
Who’s with me?