Wait Summer, Don't Go
Summer time. Sweltering heat leaving you in search of air conditioning or a cool fan. Long, endless days where no one wants to go to bed on time. Early mornings thanks to the sun peeking through the curtains, waking the kiddos. Cooking slumps because you just can't turn the oven on. I don't want it to end!!! Wait, what? Did I just say that? Me, who longs for the days of Autumn bringing the crisp, cool mornings and pumpkin spice aromas filling my senses? That seriously cannot be right. But, it is! Ah, Summer. I don't. want it. to end.
Don't get me wrong, Fall, I still love ya and will be fully present in your season. But Summer, I'm not ready to say good-bye to you yet. You are my lazy early mornings, my sprinkler chasing afternoons, my wine drinking on the porch evenings, my sleeping with the windows open nights.
You see, this summer I made a promise to myself that I would just relax and soak it all in. That come August, when I usually yearn for the cooler days and routine of Fall, I will continue to enjoy every last ounce summer has to offer. And because I made that promise to myself, I am finding that this August feels different from years past.
This is the only summer my kids will be the age and stage they are in. And although it's a tough one (ages 4 ½ + 2), I don't want to let it pass me by or let it be remembered as a tough season. Because you know what? There's beauty in it too. A LOT. There's playtime, reading together, craft projects and make believe stories. Oh and the snuggles...tons of those too. We've had picnics and pool days. I loosened up a little on mealtime and stopped stressing myself out when my kids wouldn't finish their plates. There have been some awesome teaching moments too that have stopped me in my tracks when I realize "They ARE listening to me!" This year, summer was a time to release the stress of trying to be the perfect mom. And instead, it was the perfect summer.
So no, Summer, I'm not ready for you to go just yet. You've brought this overly tired, sometimes frazzled mama, a sense of peace as we've ventured through your season. Please do me a favor, just leave behind the memories we made together, and I'll let you go (albeit reluctantly) with my arms stretched out, fingers grasping until the last moment you turn the corner out of my sight.