I always go into summer with the best intentions. We’ll be outside more. We’ll eat fresh veggies and swing in the hammock. We’ll read more and watch less tv. We’ll tell kid-friendly ghost stories while we camp and soak up the sun on the camper’s beach. Tiny parts of Columbus will be explored and nights will end around a fire.
That’s how I envision every single summer.
I romanticize the season every year. I want to live other people’s Summer. Instead, I continue to live our summer every year which is a generic version of my perfected version.
Coop does camp which means he’s outside 90% of the time. When he comes home, I’m perfectly happy letting him crash indoors. This year, I’m even happier because I’m just getting home from the office. Honestly, I never want to be outdoors if A/C is an option. We’ve got a garden, so we’ve had fresh cilantro and a few spring onions. Squirrels ran off with our tomatoes, so maybe we’ll hit the farmer’s market for some local tomatoes. Maybe not and I’ll just hit the grocery. We haven’t been camping yet, but we will. Ghost stories might happen or might not. The boys will probably do sticker books by a flashlight and Mark and I will be apologizing for the 18th time. We don’t set up the site well… I’m not making lists of places to visit this year. I’m making grocery lists and freezer meal schedules instead. We’ve hit the zoo and a few festivals, but nothing new. It hasn’t been bad by any means. I just never feel like I fully take advantage of Summer.
The Summer is buffer to the rest of the year. Our freezer is full and I’m getting used to the alarm clock. Summer is pretty much half over and I need to force myself to soak it up. I need to force myself to live it the way I had hoped. A little less screen time and a little more quality.
Tell me about your summer. Make me jealous. Give me a kick in the swim trunks.