Days of Summer
What do you remember most about the summers of your youth? I can tell you that time spent with my parents isn’t at the top of my list, other than when we traveled together.
I remember Slip ’N Slides, ice cream cones, brown suede clogs, jean shorts, producing and directing plays in our backyard and biking to McDonald’s across the border in Enfield, Connecticut. As I got older, the memories get dreamier, hazier: rope swings into polluted rivers, killing our Jeep Wagoneer driving it over huge whoop-de-doos with pints of blackberry brandy clinking under the seat. I remember chasing boys at illegal bonfire parties in the woods and being chased by police when those parties got busted. And I kind of remember pool-hopping at night and beach trips with friends. Summer was about freedom and exploring the boundaries of our youth.
It’s different now. Kids are supervised, and when you live in a valley where friends are so spread out and kids have to be driven or bused everywhere, parents become an essential part of the equation. Which I think is a good thing. Thankfully mine aren’t teenagers yet!
If I weren’t so busy working from home, I would never in a million years have witnessed my boys becoming so self-sufficient. Before the blog, I did everything for them as their social coordinator and guide. Now they make do, quite well I might add, without me.
Take the other morning. They wanted to do a lemonade stand right then and there, but mornings are my writing time, so they figured it all out on their own, digging out the red wagon I once used to take my little princes on walks in the dead of winter. Bundled in blankets, their heads on down pillows, they rode while I walked for miles and miles, teaching them about the wonders of the world.
The boys pooled their money and rode their BMX bikes into town to buy ice and lemonade mix. (Had I guided them, it would have been a lot more expensive and time-consuming to buy lemons and squeeze the juice ourselves.)
They made signs and headed to town to make some money, using their little brother and his friends as the cute sales agents. The next day they did it all over again and ended up earning the beginnings of their college fund. Only they’ll no doubt spend it all on candy, since Mommy has finally caught on that it’s truly insane to keep supporting their candy addiction. If they want to feast on the poison, they can find ways to fund their bad habit.
When I asked how the day went, they told me my friends kept coming over to chat and pulling them away from their business, costing them customers. Parents, they can be so clueless!
As for writing, I’m finding it hard to get anything done, because even though they’re showing me how well they can manage without me, they still want my input, and I still want to be by their sides before girls become more important than their dear old mum… even if they won’t remember me as part of the picture.
