It’s over. Done. Finished. Kaput. We waited nine long months and then it is over in a blink of
an eye. I’m so sad. I can hardly contain myself. Where did it go? I planned. I
made lists. I tried my best to drag it out and make it last as long as
possible. But it came to an end anyway, much too soon. Tomorrow is the first day of school. So,
this is the last, the very last, and saddest day of the summer. I grieved all
day. I tried to fake enthusiasm, at least in front of my boys, about their first
day of school tomorrow. I am sure they saw through me. With all the new school
supplies, new clothes, a new school for one of them, and looking forward to
seeing old friends for the other, they didn’t seem that sad about summer
ending.
I’m not sure why I love summer so much. Maybe it was because
we spent the largest part of my growing up years living in Hawaii. For the
entire four years we lived there it seems like it was permanently summer, well,
besides the schoolwork. But, we knew that when the weekend came, we could still
go to the beach just like we did all summer. So, it seemed like summer just
continued forever.
I remember sending my daughter off to school those first few
years, actually I believe I did it every year, begging her to stay home. She loved
school, at first anyway, so I knew she wouldn’t give in. Even though the first
day of school signaled the end to summer.
“Sis, don’t leave me. I will miss you so much.” I would
groan, half joking, half serious.
She was always so grown up. “No, Mom, I have to go. All the
kids will be there. I will see you when I get home,” she said when she was 5,
6, and 7 years old. She, being the grown up and I, was being the big baby.
My older son was the same way. He had been home schooled for
five years, and he couldn’t wait to get to a “real” school.
“Don’t go son, I will miss you so much.”
“Mom, you will be fine, “ he would say without really any
concern.
One of the twins was home schooled last year and although it
was hard, we had a great time. Now, for eighth grade he will be going to the
same school as his brother for the first time since second grade. I couldn’t say to either of them
‘please don’t go’. They would actually take me up on it.
So, I grieved the end of summer by myself. I can’t tell if
others are not sad to see summer go, or they can just keep it together better
than me. I had tried my best to make it last longer. We planned our vacation at
the beginning of the summer, so we would have as many weeks as possible, of
summer left when we got home. We bought new patio furniture and I vowed to
grill out and eat dinner outside every night of summer. After a couple of chilly
and windy nights, with everyone gulping down their dinner so they could get
inside out of the wind, they bailed on me. I ate one dinner by myself, outside,
with my hoodie on, in the wind, and decided I was being silly. I should be
inside eating with the family.
I did not accomplish everything on my summer bucket list.
Actually, I lost the list. I think it blew away one night at dinner. I didn’t
want to be bogged down with a schedule. I wanted to enjoy the summer. Even
though it flew by, we did do a lot of summer things.
This summer we:
Spent a week on the beach in Hawaii.
Spent a long weekend at a cabin in Colorado.
Sent the boys to Boy Scout camp.
Sent the boys to church camp.
Went hiking.
Went swimming.
Took long walks around the neighborhood.
Read books.
Had friends over.
Went to the zoo.
Went to an amusement park.
Painted a good part of the house.
Rode bikes.
Skateboarded (not me, just the boys).
Had friends over.
Had sleepovers with friends (again, not me).
Made an extremely weak attempt at a garden. I have one
tomato plant in a pot on the patio.
Held a carnival for low-income families at our church.
Spent four days in the hospital. (You can read about that
here )
That wasn’t really a ‘summer
thing’, nor was it fun, but it happened.
And yes, still, after all these things, I could keep going.
There were so many things we didn’t get to, and now it is over. I tried to boycott school starting two
weeks before Labor Day. It just doesn’t seem right. In addition to summer
flying by so fast, it always feels like we get ripped off of the last two weeks
of summer. We don’t get a three-month summer. We only get a two month and two
weeks summer. I could not see how I could legitimately keep my boys home from
school and then bring them the Tuesday after Labor Day. Better yet, I could
bring them the first day it turns cold, or maybe when Starbucks rolls out their
Pumpkin Lattes. Yes, Pumpkin Lattes on the first day of school. I think I might
not be as sad to say goodbye to summer if I had a Venti Pumpkin Latte, and
maybe a blueberry scone.
So, until that time, I have decided to mentally stay in a
summer frame of mind. Tomorrow, I am going to look for some summer-scented
candles. (They have every scent imaginable. They MUST have summer, maybe a
beachy scent.) I’m going to play Beach Boys music every day as I drive the boys
to school. They will love it. I’m going to grill hamburgers,
serve watermelon and make the family eat dinner outside
until the first frost. Only 285 more days until next summer, but who is
counting?
Summer is the season of babies, toddlers and littles. This
is a wondrous, eye opening season. I never knew I could love so deeply, until I
had kids. I learned what it meant to put someone else before myself: their
feeding, their sleeping, their schedule, their likes and dislikes. I also
remember this season being one of sleep deprivation, especially with twins
waking up every two hours to eat. I worried a lot – was I doing the right thing
for them, were they going to grow up to be alright? There wasn’t much time for
self-care. Not that I thought about it at the time, I didn’t. Just looking
back, I was too busy taking care of them.
Fall brought the elementary school years. They were old
enough to do some things on their own, but still needed their Mom. I remember
these years being about growth, learning and developing life skills. It was fun
doing things with them and looking at the world through their eyes. It was a
busy time with activities and juggling schedules. I remember the phrase, “The
days are long, but the years are short,” being true of this season. 
I have enjoyed every season with my kids, but the teenage
years can be tough. The good part is they have freedom, they don’t need me as
much and they can do most things on their own. I like listening as they work
out a problem or talk about their plans for the future. Like the baby season, I
find myself sleep deprived, waiting for them to come home at night, worrying
about where they are and what they are doing. It is a balancing act as to when
to be tough on these strong independent kids, but not break their spirit.
Realizing we are not raising kids, we are raising them to be adults.
The young adult years are when the baby birds leave the
nest. It brings newness, independence and accomplishments. Graduations, new
jobs, first apartments, marriage, and a baby of their own, make all the other
seasons worth it. Adult conversations change the parent child relationship to
more of a friendship with people you love deeply. Not all of my birds have left
the nest yet, so I don’t know what an empty nest feels like, but I know it will
be different, as each season with them has been different. 
