Confessions of a Summer Failure

It's April 22 and I'm already really behind on summer. Now that we've passed Easter, that feeling of Summer Activity Dread is now stalking me. I'm fully aware that the organized parents of the world have had their June, July and August calendars filled with camps, classes and activities for several weeks already. I know this because a few weeks ago when I looked up swimming lessons for our own park district they were already filled. Also, I've been party to the "Are you going to do ____ this summer?" conversations many times since Spring Break. Confession: I AM NOT READY. I am so far from not ready. I have not even started. I have I small pile of things to look at that may become things we might possibly do during the summer, but the odds are very, very good that should I happen to get around to looking a those activity descriptions while also looking at our family calendar before the actual activity occurs there will be neither the space for an Olsen kid nor room in an Olsen budget for such things. Sigh. It's kind of sad to feel like summer is a failure ... in APRIL!

One of the worst aspects of modern parenting is the keeping up with the Joneses, especially since many-a Mama Jones tends to post her offsprings' most stellar moments on ye olde social media all the time. While I objectively know that my children do not need a full social calendar and in fact thrive on down time, it takes superhuman momma effort to keep reminding myself that just because the Chicago Parent weekend calendar is bursting with things to do this weekend, we do not need to attend one single event. There will be no parenting penalty for failing to provide cultural stimulation to all three children every single week. There are no guarantees that any of the children will get a scholarship or even attend a four-year private university if we sign them up for season-after-season of sports and activities. There is no magic number of grade school playdates that will assure a vibrant social life in later school years. There's even proof for this. Ever read or watched Freakonomics? If the research is to be believed, Jamieson and I have already set the kids on their life path. Now we just have to keep them fed and in clean clothes.

At the park 

So, on a day like yesterday I again "treated" my husband to the same anxious monologue about the merits of activities for the kids, but he said they are fine. He's right. Erik and Anna had the day off from school. Thanks to Facebook, I was aware that some friends were off doing exciting/fun/cultural things. (Note to self: Facebook is not helping your parenting.) What did we do? We went to our public library where we are known personally by several of the librarians. William and Anna enjoyed storytime. All three kids enjoyed filling our library cart. There is NO checkout limit, so 50 books came home with us. (Personally, I wish so many
of them had not been about Scooby-Doo, but that's another issue.) All three kids gleefully read books all the way home. We stopped at a favorite park to play. We read at home, where I was told how much they love books. We had some quiet time. When friends came home from school, the kids spent at least two hours playing outside with their buddies. When I had to ask Erik a question, he was in the midst of debating whether he was or was not "it."  No adults were mediating the game. At any one time, there can be at least 14 kids playing outside on our cul-de-sac. All I need to do to get my kids some physical fitness time is open the door after school or on a weekend. No fees to pay. No calendars to consult. It's the kind of childhood we often hear lamented as some relic of a lost time. My children have it to enjoy every day and I'm fretting that it's not quite enough. Silly mom. Seems like it will be a perfect summer after all.