Summer Daze

'Tis the season for . . . not a whole lot?

Despite all the end-of-school chaos, we made it. The night before the last day, I had one kid with a low-grade fever and another suffering from a run-in with poison oak; boy, we hobbled over the finish line. Even so, that last-day-of-school feeling washed over all of us, and somewhere in the flurry of activity my oldest said to me, “Mom, I think this is going to be a good summer.” 

I smiled at his optimism, but a tiny swirl of anxiety stirred. Aside from a visit from my parents in July and a trip in August, all I could see were a lot of empty days ahead. Did that really sound “good”?

From a teenager’s perspective, I see the appeal. An empty day is perfect for, say, sleeping ‘til noon before shuffling to the fridge, watching some Youtube, and venturing out around 5 pm to see who’s around. Great, eh? 

To me, ten weeks of unoccupied children/teenagers is a prospect that makes me a tiny bit nervous. I think it may be the least planned summer we’ve had since our oldest started school.

At the forefront of my mind is the question that invokes a thread of panic: When will I write? And, if I do write, what does it say about my parenting if the boys aren’t, at the very least, eating healthy foods and moving their bodies? Or, for the love of their mother, just reading a book? And yes, getting a job when they’re old enough.

On the evening of the last day of school, my husband and I took a walk around the neighborhood. As we strolled the twilight streets, graduation signs dotted lawns and voices drifted from backyard parties. When we rounded the last corner of our route, we spotted a group of teenagers wandering down the darkened street, music blaring from one of their phones. 

“Uh oh. Roving teenagers,” my husband said, and we chuckled to ourselves.

The boys jostled each other, howling with laughter as they moved in a pack, oblivious to us as we walked by. 

“Do you remember that?” I said. “How much fun that was, just being with your friends? Hanging out and doing nothing?”

We agreed that, in spite of teenagers’ propensity for ruffling adult feathers, adolescents are privy to a certain magic. That space between growing up and stepping out into the world is where they are doing their own, necessary work: forming bonds, making memories, pushing boundaries and figuring out who they are—who they will be—in this world.

Recently, one of my oldest friends texted some throwback photos and we had a good laugh about the shenanigans we got up to during school breaks. We spent many summer hours working, but we used the rest to do a whole lot of—you guessed it—nothing. We sat by the pool, hung out in people’s backyards after sunset, and cruised around with no destination because being able to drive was exciting enough.

We definitely roved.

Summer arrives like one has been launched from a runaway party train into a remote field, left with nothing but blue sky, dancing daisies, and deafening silence. As much I love the season, I’m not great at doing nothing anymore. The truth is, as a parent, I dread summer a tiny bit. But maybe that’s when some of the important stuff—the things you can’t see from that racing train—gets done.

The other day, my 13-year old made a grilled cheese sandwich, and I witnessed a moment that could have easily escaped me. As he prepared to lay the top slice of bread in place, he leaned in, eyed the pile of cheese and, with the precision of a master chef, he placed the bread just so. I saw a flash of him in a commercial kitchen, or maybe an operating room, a lab, or engineering something amazing. Basically, being a grown-up. It caught me off guard, and I can’t get it out of my mind.

In our house, the big kids are cobbling together a summer of community service hours, driver’s ed, mowing and weeding neighbors’ lawns, and pet sitting, while the little one will enjoy a sprinkling of camps, running with the neighborhood gang, and building forts by the creek. 

It’s a different juggle, but I feel myself falling into a summer rhythm. I made blueberry muffins the other day “just because” and I went to an evening showing of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (I needed an espresso to get through it, but still) because I got to hang out with my teenagers. It will be a challenge, but I also plan on writing plenty this summer; I’m working on a short story, an essay, and have another project simmering.

Between those things, we will be staying up late and sleeping in, watching movies, eating popsicles for lunch, making ice cream, growing tomatoes, swimming and climbing trees, riding bikes and playing video games, ditching our shoes and hanging with friends. 

All of that, and a whole lot of nothing.

Thanks for being here, and I hope you have a great start to your summer.