Sticky doorknobs from melting popsicles, sprinkler water splashed on the floors, fireflies snatched from the air, and late nights reading by lamplight. That’s a glimpse into the summers we have here in our home.
I read somewhere that 90% of your time spent with your kids happens before they turn 18. That’s a scary number to be faced with as a parent, one that makes you want to make every minute, and every summer, count.
I also read that the majority of childhood memories revolve around vacations. So, I decided the best plan was to fill our everyday with as many feelings of vacation as possible. Special snacks are packed when we go to the city pool, spontaneous pizza nights happen on the front lawn, and ice cream follows almost every downtown walk. We crank the music in the car like it’s a road trip, even if we’re just going down the street. We say yes to lemonade stands, extra bedtime stories, and front yard slip and slides. Anything to cement the summers to memory.
When I think back to my own summers in Indiana, I can only faintly recall the things we had or the house we lived in. I definitely couldn’t tell you anything about our furniture. But I can tell you how I felt running to the park every morning to meet up for our free lunch and activities. The summers were cooler than here in Tennessee, and I can almost feel the breeze that would grace us atop our monkey bar throne. I remember calling Time and Temp over and over again until it said 80 degrees so we could get in the pool. I remember saving every Kool-Aid pack to mail in for stickers later, and the freedom of riding my bike with no hands.
I hope my kids also remember the feelings of summer.
The sweltering heat of Tennessee. The sound of their dad’s bass boat hitting the water. The way the wind flows through the screens in the camper. The taste of gas station popsicles and orange Gatorade. The echo of friends’ laughter down the street. Things that plant solid memories. Things that will transport them back in time to us.
And I hope they remember the people.
The friends that came and went. The neighbor who always stops to let them pet their dog when they walk by. The girl behind the counter at Pruett’s who scoops their ice cream. The way their friends come running when we pull into the pool. The parents of friends who give second dinners and car rides home.
I hope they remember me, Mom.
I may not always be in the photo or the one driving us to the adventure. But it was likely my idea, dreamed up late at night while they slept. Shopping for the perfect snacks to fill the days. Making the lunch boards so they can grab and go as they pleased. Bringing their friends along to the jump parks and movies.
