Running through sprinklers, smell of sunscreen, giggles, and breathless running.  Bikes going up and down the lane.

Imagination…  Stories that started in my head that grew bigger than me and swept me away.

Heap of kids on the lawn at twilight.  Coolness of day creeps in and I realize for the first time all day that I feel chilly and happy and content down to my bones.

That’s what I remember of summer.  I relish these memories.  Somehow these are feelings that I still feel aching in the center of my chest if I sit still enough.  The part of me that is still 6 years old and lost in wonderment at my own special world is alive and well.

I wish these same things for my girls, and I wonder sometimes if I do enough to give them the same gifts.  How do I “create” those memories?  Do I put them in activities to socialize them?  Do I structure their days to make sure they are getting a well-rounded dose of good things each and every day?  They must need swimming lessons.  How do I get out there and run with them when I have the baby on my hip and a house stuffed to the gills with dishes and laundry and dusting that never gets done?  Surely they’ll never get those precious moments unless I DO something.  I always feel the need to DO something.  What if I rob them?

Classic mother-angst.

Then I listen outside my window:

Little girl giggles, and feet slapping in puddles on the lawn.

Whispers and sighs and that wondering tone of voice:  “A clue, Mama!  A clue!  Faeries!!!”

Kids from all over the neighborhood crowding into our little lawn.

(Sure we run through our popsicle budget a little faster than expected.But it’s worth it.)

Exhausted exhales, giggling, glee and running and I look up and see…

Twilight.  Piles of children.


Sometimes I don’t have to “do” anything.  Sometimes the trick is to let my children just be.


One thought on “Summer

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