Summers Can Be Hard, and That’s Okay.

I get it, Mama. I totally do.

The kids are screaming at each other, even after you shelled out “HOW MUCH?!”to take them to Disney for a week. Can’t they just show their appreciation by giving you a day of peace when you get home?

Your typically tidy house is over-run with toys and neighborhood kids, and–wait, have you ever even seen that kid before? Who does he belong to, and why in the WORLD does he think it’s okay to jump on your couch?

The fun activities that you had planned for the entire day only got your baby through half the morning, so now she’s begging to watch another episode of “Daniel” while you try to figure out what to do.

And holy moly, the snacks! Don’t get me started on the snacks! I never believed it until I started experiencing it with my own little, but there really is something about summer that makes her just want to graze all day. If I would let her, I’m pretty sure she would have eaten her weight in popsicles by now, and we’re only a solid week in.

I get it , Mama. I really do.

The routine and the familiarity of the school year bring you so much peace. You like knowing what time you’re getting out of bed with a little one, who has what responsibilities for the day, and having a bit of a break from your kids (if we’re really being honest here), and even the hustle and bustle of after-school activities, homework, and dinner-bath-bed (yes, basically one word, ’cause you know that’s how it works) give you a sense of “We’re moving forward and things are okay.” Tomorrow’s another day.

But that’s the thing about summer. Days all tend to run together. You lose the routine. The sense of moving forward. Sometimes, even the purpose. Don’t, Mama. I stumbled upon this quote on Facebook the other day, maybe you’ve seen it.

It stopped me in my tracks.

I cried myself to sleep later that night, thinking about my first two summers with my daughter, particularly our first. She was born at the end of April, so maternity leave bled right into summer. Pre-baby me thought this was going to be the most magical, glorious summer of my life. The dark cloud of postpartum depression had other plans though. That’s another topic for another day, but suffice it to say, I don’t even remember our first summer together. Sure, I can piece together memories through pictures (see her first trip to the Chick-Fil-A Dwarf House–yes, something to be celebrated and documented–pictured below), but piecing together memories and actually remembering are two totally different things. This realization shattered my heart.

The next summer was so much better, with a trip to Orlando and trips to see family. However, much of the summer revolved around packing, moving 4 hours away, and setting up our new home. I still have to really dig to pull out the memories, especially those of my spunky one-year old.

So, I’m trying to be intentional about the time I’m spending with my two-year-old daughter this summer. We have swimming lessons and family trips on our calendar, along with a few other fun activities we’ll get to do. I’ve also tried to be intentional about setting a routine for us, with early morning walks, storytime, and some structured play (I know that may sound silly, but seriously, structure and planning help me stay sane). Still, I can already feel the days bleeding together. My new mission: make each day count in some small, meaningful way (even if that’s sometimes just extra snuggles with a drowsy toddler). When I look back on this summer with my babe, I want this to be the best summer ever . . . until next year.

All that to say: I get it, Mama. Trust me, I do.

The days are hard sometimes, and that’s okay. Parenting never has been and never will be easy, even over summer. But, you’re strong, you’re smart, you’re brave, you’re beautiful, and you’re one heck of an amazing mother! You’ll make it through this summer with your babes, and hopefully, come out on the other side with some amazing memories!