We were approximately 15 hours into summer break before our 8-year-old stared at me and said, “What should I do?” Her two brothers turned to me, eager to hear my response.
I won’t repeat my response here.
We talk a lot about how to fill endless summer days and the heavy potential for boredom, as well as the tendency for mom or dad to be forced into the role of cruise director. Plenty of online resources offer helpful summer schedules and community sponsored activities to keep us busy.
However, the thing I love (and hate) most about summer, and something we don’t talk much about, is its obvious period of transition.
Season as Change
As adults, we typically don’t have an annual two-and-a-half month break to mark the end of our year’s growth and development. If we’re lucky, we get a few days off at the end of the calendar year that are typically over-scheduled and anything but restful.
But kids – and those of us in charge of them – can count on a clearly identified end at each school year. There are parties to provide closure and good-byes, and yearbooks to capture the memories. Kids can count on their fellow classmates similarly moving on to the next stage.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have that when we grow up?
Summer is a great time to catch up with the physical and emotional growth the kids went through over the year, and in some cases it’s the first chance we have to notice its depth.
The kids are more capable in the pool. Their solo bike rides are longer. They recognize when they’ve perhaps been too insensitive with their younger sibling. They mow the lawn. Reach the higher shelves in the kitchen. Use ChatGPT to meal plan. Turn off the night light.
They do more. They need less.
The Unavoidable Feelings
Change doesn’t come alone. It brings the feelings.
We’re currently experiencing even more transition than normal in our household. Our oldest will start middle school, our youngest will enter kindergarten, and all three kids will be at a brand new school next year.
I’m having all the feelings. They’re having all the feelings. It’s exhausting. And exciting. And unavoidable.
Transitions are emotional, and childhood is full of them. Feeling the feelings requires time and energy, two resources in short supply during parenthood. But summer, and the traditional school structure, forces them upon us whether we’re ready or not.
So we start the summer in celebration, appreciating the year’s wins, mourning the necessary ends, and trying to enjoy the moment before looking too far ahead. We’ll create our boredom jars, fill out our summer bucket lists, and put local events on the calendar.
Soon enough, we’ll start planning for yet another new beginning as the school year approaches. We’ll try to curb all the bad food and sleep habits we’ve developed over the summer, promise to be less busy this year, and take one last deep breath before the school year begins.
And we’ll start the countdown to next summer – and all its beautiful boredom and blessed in-between time – when we’ll mark the passing of another year.
