THE ENDLESS SUMMER

Every morning, I wake up to the hum of my air conditioning cycling on, which also always wakes up my two-year-old son. Like clockwork, I can hear him start to whine for “Mommy,” and I shuffle to lift him over the crib bars. 

Half-asleep, I muster a good morning grumble and go straight towards the toaster for his breakfast (that he requests immediately upon waking). 

As I butter the sourdough slices, I wait for his older sister to start her day. She joins us groggily with hair that’s tangled up into a magnificent mane, needing milk warmed for exactly 40 seconds only to hide it somewhere in the house (hard enough to need clues to its whereabouts, but not too hard to find on her own) to start her morning. 

Somewhere in the midst of milk hiding and toast toasting, I consider our plan for the day. 

Where we live, it’s warm enough to run AC all year, our pool gets used frequently, and our days are spent mostly outside. Because I have toddlers, we don’t have school to send off to or a routine to feel freedom from skipping for a few precious months.  

Every day, I wonder what to do. Pool or beach or zoo or park? Where and who are we meeting up with? 

So, when back-to-school ushers in a change of pace and routine for my friends with bigger kids, I eagerly anticipate a change in our days too. It seems everyone is anxious for mornings with alarms and days planned without lazy afternoons outside in the sunshine or water. 

I’m realizing that the summer they’re shuffling out of is what I will continue to live in for the next few years. I’m stuck daily in summer, no matter the calendar month. 

I’m tempted to feel burnt out by it, like after you spend too much time in the sun. I can find myself looking forward to routines and change and a busy schedule out of the house … kids in childcare sounds like the truest summer vacation for my tired mama soul. 

Instead of feeling drained by the constant summer, I’m trying to revel in the freedom of it. The endless popsicles, laundering of bathing suits and PJs that we wear all day long, and empty calendar days will one day be gone – replaced by alarm clocks instead of air conditioning, with rushed breakfasts in the car on the way to drop off.  

I know that I’ll yearn for this time again. So, I’m trying to embrace this season of motherhood as the treasure it actually is. 

Because after all, this short time in our lives mothering small children is actually just a season.  

And this one is definitely a long, hot, sunny summer.