I vividly recall stepping off the bus on the final day of school during my childhood—back when summer break was genuinely a break, not the exhausting three months it often becomes as an adult. I would toss my backpack aside, dash barefoot through lush fields, and skip showering since I was in the local lake almost every day. That was, of course, perfectly sanitary, right?
Teenage summers were just as exhilarating. I juggled a job but still had enough energy left to revel with friends late into the night, cruising around while jamming to tunes from the ’90s. Where did all that energy vanish to? Some of it is probably stuck on the kitchen counter I just scrubbed—truly the stickiest surface known to humankind. The rest of it? Well, it’s likely scattered across my floors, which I vacuum daily, thanks to my kids dragging in mountains of dirt, leaves, and grass clippings every time they walk through the door. And let’s not even get started on my daily grocery trips because we perpetually run out of essentials like toilet paper and cheese sticks.
Let’s be real: summer as an adult can be a drag. There are no spontaneous vacations simply because the weather is nice. A parent’s schedule doesn’t ease up from May to September just because the kids are home. In fact, it gets even more hectic since the kids require constant supervision and entertainment, unlike during the school year when they’re at school.
If I hear my son peering into the fridge and proclaiming “there’s no food” one more time, I might just lose it. My kids change outfits fifty times a day, always soaking wet, leaving their discarded clothes strewn across the floor despite my daily reminders about proper care for wet clothing. My responsibilities have increased; I still work, but now it feels like I’m working double time. Oh, how I long to shed my mom jeans and run through the sprinklers too—perhaps with a mojito in hand. Now that would be a true summer vacation!
Instead, I’m shuttling my children to a seemingly endless array of summer activities, shelling out too much money for camps and ice cream cones, and somehow finding myself with a few extra kids in my house, all munching on our snacks and creating just as much chaos as my own. I’m sure I agreed to let them come over, but that was likely amid my distracted scrolling through social media, answering “yes” just to have some peace and quiet. I definitely need to be more mindful.
Nevertheless, summer isn’t entirely devoid of joy. Occasionally, a specific scent in the air or a glimpse of my kids at play transports me back to a time when I truly did spend my days running through sprinklers and dozing off to the soothing hum of an oscillating fan. You remember those fans, right? The ones that could alter your voice if you spoke into them? I can picture myself biking to the beach or lounging under trees with friends, playing M.A.S.H. while eagerly awaiting the sweet sounds of the ice cream truck. Those sunny months of my youth were a canvas filled with colorful adventures. I suppose I am extending that same freedom to my kids, even if it means sacrificing a little of my own.
Perhaps those fleeting moments of nostalgia serve as gentle reminders for me to pause and relish some summer joy for myself. That is, of course, until I’m jolted back to reality when I have to drag out the vacuum cleaner once again and make yet another last-minute grocery run. This time, though, I’ll be sure to stock up on mojito ingredients.
Fire up the sprinklers, kids!
In summary, the essence of summer vacation drastically changes from childhood to adulthood. While kids enjoy carefree days filled with fun, parents experience the chaos of constantly managing schedules and responsibilities. Nonetheless, the nostalgia of simpler times can inspire moments of joy, urging parents to reclaim a bit of that summer spirit.