By Kristina Hammer of The Daily Rantings of an Angrivated Mom
Here it is, August already, and I have no idea how we got here. Summer is coming to an end before I even settled in to its peaceful lack of school schedules and routines. There was so much I wanted to do, because my oldest two children are at the cusp of leaving childhood far behind, teetering on the edge of becoming teenagers soon.
Summer kicked off with a bang this year, giving me reason to think this one would finally be different from all those of past. This summer we would be able to do things, go places, have adventures. This summer would be exciting, fun, full of new experiences.
The first weekend the kids had off from school, we took them on a kinda-sorta camping trip for the weekend at our local family recreation area. We were lucky to get a cabin right off the beach path down to the lake. The kids had the time of their lives, spending two whole days rolling in sand and splashing in the water, closing each day with a campfire and s’mores. It was everything I had wished our first family adventure to be like. And more.
None of us wanted to go back home, but home was waiting for us. We settled back into our normal summer routine of lazy mornings, bustling afternoons full of running errands, late dinners, and fluctuating bedtimes for all. The days kept passing by in our laze — no one was keeping track, and no one seemed to care. The kids were enjoying this time off from the continuous whirlwind the hubbub and commotion of the school year stirs up.
When the fact of the kids going back to school in a few short weeks first dawned on me, I started freaking out in my head, questioning my abilities as a parent with depression. Had I been on a low without knowing it and left my children hanging, wishing I could shake off the fog? Had I left the boys, particularly, disappointed in me while the days passed by us, because they expected more?
My thoughts spiraled like leaves falling from trees after a swift Autumn gust of wind. Was this summer even fun enough for any of them, even the girls?! Did I miss an opportunity to tighten the bond between mother and sons before those trying teenage years sweep in and pull us apart with hormones and angst? I let my anxiety get the better of me in this consuming moment of self-doubt. In the back of my mind, I knew I was being unfairly harsh and malevolent with this impromptu personal performance evaluation, and I wasn’t going to let it take me out.
After getting a grip on those rambling, runaway ruminations feeding the Depression Monster, I was able to step back and see the big picture come into focus. It was crystal clear to me! Depression didn’t steal my summer. This was a summer the boys could remember with joyous nostalgia, not bitter resentment, like the cantankerous, oppressive voice of depression tried tricking me into believing.
Why? Because the finale was yet to come. Summer wasn’t over! It is coming to a close, but we aren’t done with it… yet. By all technicality, the last day of Summer won’t actually fall until September twenty-second this year. We still have plans to celebrate my oldest entering middle school and becoming a full-blown tween. We still have plans to surprise the boys with their first ever trip to Cedar Point without their annoying little sisters tagging along! So, even with school starting in a few weeks, summer can still go out with the same bang it came in with.
It’s a beautiful thing to take a step back and live in complete simplicity. I feel so much more connected with my children than I did during the entire last school year. We’ve talked more about ourselves and the ways of life than we have in the past. I watched them be kids in their molds, always changing from one day to the next, because they own who they are. More than I can say about myself on a bad day with my Depression, so it means the world for me to see my children learning life lessons I’m not very good at teaching. They didn’t feel influenced, pressured, intimidated, conscientious, under fire, or in demand once during the last eight weeks.
The boys played Minecraft to their hearts’ content. We learned about love and loss when our puppy was stolen and how to use teamwork to organize search parties and deliver flyers. We watched dozens of movies cuddled together with buckets of extra buttery popcorn for munching. We had ice cream sundaes for lunch, breakfast for dinner, and pizza for breakfast on more than a few occasions. We watched a rescued kitten grow up. We caught fireflies and took moonlight walks, went to a few amazing fireworks shows, and stayed up super late playing Zombies Pillow Attack. I think that’s quite a lot of fun the kids will always remember. Even my grown-way-too-fast-for-my-liking boys.
Sometimes life comes at you like a runaway roller coaster, with twists, turns, and drops you never see coming, which leaves you screaming at the clouds to just let you off the hell ride already. Yet, other times, it’ll ostensibly slow to a crawl, allowing you to experience every passing second with your full lot of senses, taking in everything life offers up on its tarnished silver platter. It is only when life puts you in this place, where you can take it slow and easy, in which you’ll find yourself with a summer’s worth of memories to take away in your heart.
Summer came in with a bang and is going to roll out with one, too, but the rest was just as summer should be, us reveling in the simplicity of simply existing. Relaxing, melding, merging…. into the verve of summer.
This post was originally published on The Daily Rantings of an Angrivated Mom
******
About the Author
Kristina L. Hammer is a blogging SAHMÂ to 4 crazy kiddos that have stolen her sanity. She’s addicted to Coca-Cola to stay energized on her journey to insanity and beyond! She has also recently added a brand new puppy and kitten to her growing zoo of family pets. Find her on Facebook.