Awkward Mom vs. Summer Fever

Hi, Parents! It's nearly August and time to take your summer temperature. Your risk of fever, of course, depends on many factors, not the least of which is your summer-parent affiliation. Someone nudge the pool parents; they aren't listening. Looks like they are plugged into their audio-books and might be napping under those Jackie O. sunglasses, I can't quite tell. The super organized parents have had new planners since July 5th, are crafting a brand new French Bulletin Board for their Kitchen Command Center, and, naturally, can NOT wait for school to start. The working parents are sick of paying for camp, thank you very much. The homeschoolers took a 2 week break in late June to visit the National Parks, refreshed the schoolroom the first week of Target's back to school sale, got right into the new curriculum, and would like us to keep it down, please. The no-screen parents are running out of ideas. The all-screen parents haven't actually seen their 12-year-old leave the basement in 6 days and are wondering when and if he is going to the bathroom. They have also taken to humming the Fortnite music around the office and coworkers are concerned. Someone pass the Disney parents some granola bars, they look exhausted and this is gonna take awhile.

Summer Fever happens every August; we all start to panic or rejoice that the summer is coming to an end. In August. The most summer of the summer months. Even the word August sounds like the sigh of a Southern gentleman as he sits under a weeping willow, slowly fanning himself and sipping a sweating glass of lemonade. And yet, we hear it and start freaking out about school shoes and fall leaves and pumpkins and backpacks and plaid skirted nostalgia. Old Man Calendar shakes his fist and yells at us that we have tons of time, summer doesn't actually end until September 22, why aren't we listening to him and why won't we get off his lawn?! We could blame the change of farming culture, a more robust education budget (compared to the 1800s, mind you), more fall/spring breaks, and Target. I love you, Target, but that back to school sale started the second you put those fourth of July flags away, and, holy cats, is that Halloween stuff I spy over there?! Target, take a nap already!

Summer Fevers are fevers; they make you sweaty, tired, dizzy, and pretty crazy. They will convince you that you are totally failing your children by not having enjoyed the stuffing out of every precious day of summer so far and by not infusing every remaining day of summer with memory-making, bucket list experiences, and circus-level excitement. And you will feel this way whether you yourself like summer or not; the fall-lovers will just feel more guilt about the proceedings. And this will go on until the first day of school, when you will trade your Summer Fever for Back-to-School Flu, where everyone obsessively compares first day photos until someone throws up. Which, in turn, gives way to Football Fatigue, Homework Shock, Halloween Haze, and Christmas Paralysis. On and on and on until you set up a chair next to Old Man Calendar and yell at your grandchildren to slow down and get off the lawn for Pete's sake!

Or you could join the resistance...

This is the Resistance.

Of course, we have dinosaurs. 

First of all, resist the urge to compare your summer to anyone else's summer. No one else knows the inner workings of your life, bank account, patience, or sand tolerance. Facebook thinks it does, but that's just your political preference and Amazon search history. I know it's tempting, but don't confuse those things with your soul. Your summer is not going to look like the summer of the woman with the gorgeous hair that you went to middle school with. And here's a secret I have to tell you; her summer doesn't really look like her summer either, I don't care what Instagram told you. Comparison and selective framing is a way of life in our social media existence, but that doesn't make it healthy or sane. Please stop comparing your summers and thinking anyone's opinion matters. The only summer opinions that matter are yours. And your children's. And speaking of that....

Second of all, resist the urge to create magical summer experiences for your children. They are going to hate them anyway and tell you the best moment of the summer was when those two neighbor dogs got into a fight on the lawn and you had to break it up by turning on the hose. Children are children; they have the attention span of gnats. They will have the worst day of their lives because you gave them 4 chicken nuggets instead of 5. 10 minutes later, they will be elated because the Disney channel is showing the Little Mermaid. 5 minutes after that they will upend the table you set that Pinterest craft on, that took you 3 hours to prep, and declare they are building a fort, which they will abandon 14 minutes later to stare out the window for awhile. This is why we take 800 pictures when we do anything with our children that cost us energy and money because we know our children are not going to remember it. But that time your dropped a watermelon in the Whole Foods produce section and also dropped the F bomb? Yeah, they are never gonna forget that. Look for that one to come up at Thanksgiving 2037.

Third of all, resist the urge the think that children experience time the same way adults do. They don't. Time doesn't move quickly until you can actually tell time. This is way toddlers hate naps; 10 minutes or 10 years, it's all the same to them. Some seriously heady existential Rip-Van-Winkle stuff going on up in here. Think about your own memories, your own childhood. Which lasted longer; ages 10-20 or ages 20-30? I bet you lived about 18 lifetimes between 10-20, and 20-30 passed one weekend during a particularly intense Burning Man. Childhood feels endless, and that is why stuffing it with every possible activity, outing, and freezie-pop is just ridiculous. (Testing is not complete regarding freezie-pop possibilities; check back with us around September 22.) Children don't feel summer slipping away or escaping; they are busy on 14 different adventures you will never know about until they need some tape. Now, you. Well, you feel like summer is rushing by because it is. It really is.

My dear Friend, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you are an adult. We're adults, everything is rushing. We can tell time now, and, unfortunately, time takes this familiarity as an excuse to speed up. Time's like a professor that knows you understand the material and decides to push through at double speed. This sucks, no real way around that. However, being an adult does have its perks. I vividly remember the summer I was 12; it just would not end and life would just not start and being an adult and able to drive and escape and control my destiny would just be the best thing ever. Guess what? You are an adult; you get to decide what the best thing ever is. In case you are napping by the pool or finishing up that French Bulletin Board, I've taken the liberty of making a summer best thing ever list for you.

Best things about summer because you are now an adult

You can love summer, every second of it, all the way to September 22, and sit poolside until you need a sweater over your bikini. If you want to sun some more and skip back-to-school night, I'll pick up your packet for you, just let me know.

You can hate summer and long dreamily for pumpkin spice lattes and flannel tights with plaid skirts and hipster scarves and the apple-scented chill in the air. Put an autumn candle directly in front of your air conditioner and close your eyes. We'll wake you up for dinner.

You can give your children screens. That 11 hour Minecraft session is gonna let you finish 2 books. Personal experience.

Don't give your children any screens. Sneak in some screen time yourself and print out some fabulous summer ideas. Your chalk art and train track building skills are gonna be expert level by mid-July.

Limit screen time; for them, for you, for the dog, whatever works. Your phone has a timer feature, use it.

Say you limit screen time and then totally forget the TV is a screen. Yes, Netflix, I am still watching. Gee, judge much?

Take an expensive vacation. You only live once.

Don't take an expensive vacation. College isn't going to pay for itself.

Decide a trip to the community pool is an expensive vacation because, let's be honest, why are they charging more than a $1 for chips?!

Homeschool fractions.

Embrace the summer slide.

Decide Octonauts is educational, throw a bag of cherries on the couch, and call it a day.

Make experimental art with your sunglasses and found items.

Sky's the limit. 

There are more, but these cherries aren't gonna eat themselves. It's almost August, and I've got summering to do. Remember, the best cure for Summer Fever is something delicious, a deep breath, your best calm-down voice, and the knowledge that you are doing the very best you can for your children when you are true to yourself and your unique skills. Fall will come, Summer will last, Time is what you make of it. It's going too fast and you have lots of time; it's weird but welcome to the miracle that it parenthood.

Be you. You are doing just fine, I promise.

Now, Summer Brain Freeze has no known cure.

Maybe the homeschoolers have figured it out, 

those guys are tireless!