(no) GOOOOOAAAAAAL!!!
Originally posted 7/1/18
It’s summer time. The living should be…easy? relaxing? the best thing since sliced bread? If you’re an educator, then hopefully that’s what’s up. That’s how my summers used to be: a big nap dotted with a few hikes, booze, and the occasional lesson planning for September. Five years ago, when Zoe was just the size of a pomegranate seed and the source of all my nausea, I recognized that this would be my last summer of an agenda that was solely my own. Seeing this as my last opportunity, I leaned into the nothingness of summer. I slept in like it was my job. I took my binge watching responsibilities seriously, and while I couldn’t take comfort in my summer cocktails, I did drink milk by the gallon until my doctor asked me to consider moderation. The summer of 2013 was the last summer where I had no one to worry about, and I do not regret one nap or one day spent ignoring the sunshine to watch Orange is the New Black.
And to go from working full time to being a full time mom is not a transition for the faint of heart. KIDS ARE HARD! I miss sleeping in past 7 am and drinking tea without a little fist in it or listening to my choice of music without the requests for “Footloose.” Who knew Kenny Loggins would be so popular with the Pre-K crowd? But amidst loving your kids while also feeling the struggle of this parenting gig, there’s the pressure to enjoy your kids now before they’re grown up and drunk dialing you from their dorm rooms. Have you seen those commercials that are usually for visiting Idaho or something along those lines, and they come with the tagline: you only get 18 summers with your kids, so you better make the most of it. There are messages coming at parents from all angles to ENJOY, ENJOY, ENJOY! Don’t squander a moment because someday you’ll long for the poopy diapers and sleepless nights and someone else’s fingers up your nose. I already know I will. I can feel it coming as I watch them grow out of their clothes, and Ben learns new words and Zoe’s drawings have started to resemble people instead of mutant spiders. But this pressure to savor your children compounds the guilt when maybe you’re not enjoying every moment because you miss midday naps.
And finally there’s the pressure I put on myself to become a better human being. So much of the school year is dedicated to survival. If I can do my job, be a good mom to my kids in my off hours, occasionally get out with Barrett and friends, we’re going to call it a victory. Exercising? I'm trying! Hobbies? Squeezed in between 9 and 10 pm. Being an informed and involved citizen? Does angry ranting in the shower about the president count? I made an active and conscious effort to not overload my plate during the year so that I wasn’t in a constant state of burnout. I’d rather do a few things well than half-ass everything. This was a revelation, and it was life changing. But there’s something about summer that ups the stakes for me. I know this is weird and contrary to the very nature of the season. Everyone else seems to have this figured out except me. For the past five years, summer comes along and I tell myself I have no excuses. Now is the time to finally do the things I’ve been putting off all year.
I made a list (yes, another one) of all the things I wanted to do just for me this summer (in addition to all the super fun family activities). I just counted, and I had 18 goals for myself including exercising, writing, taking photography classes, an online Spanish class, starting meditation, hiking new trails, renewing my scuba certification, attending political rallies, volunteering at our local homeless shelter, reading 6 or 7 books, and cleaning out my garage because it’s where hope goes to die. Even typing this now is giving me a visceral shudder, because this is not ambition, this is anxiety. When will I learn? I have been down this road about an infinite amount of times by now, yet here I am again, putting pressure on myself to make the most of everything before September comes crashing in. I’ve somehow convinced myself that without work, I could and should make time for everything that’s taken a back seat since having children. Maybe this is a symptom of lost identity in the name of motherhood, but it’s unrealistic and continues to keep me exhausted, frustrated, and defeats the purpose summer break.
It only took me about 8 days of “vacation” until I had a fledging melt down and cried in bed for over an hour. Long story short, you can sort of see my garage now, my Spanish is improving, I’ve injured my foot doing Zumba, and I’ve attended a few rallies and read a couple politically minded books that are keeping me up at night as I contemplate all the suffering in the world. I’ve been with my kids but I can’t attest to how much I’ve enjoyed them, because my mind has been sprinting in 54 directions. About a week ago, after said weeping in bed, I had to call an audible. I looked around at all the things I love doing and realized they were making me miserable. Not because of the things themselves, but because when they feel like obligations, it sucks the joy right out of them. I will be teaching middle school come September; I’m going to need all the rest and reprieve I can muster. Fewer lists, less organizing, less time at night stressing about the impact of my carbon foot print. I don't advocate for turning a blind eye to the problems of the world, but if you're not functioning enough to be there for your family, what good are you?
So I literally took my list of 18 beautifully color-coded, goal oriented action items, and I crossed it out and wrote “DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU FEEL LIKE.” I mean it. I’m giving myself the summer off & to do only things I want to do, besides, you know, paying bills and keeping my children fed and entertained. If I want to study Spanish, voy a estudiar! If I feel like writing, I will. If I want to read, I’ll read whatever I feel like, even if it isn't motivating me to be a better human. If I’m feeling so inspired to volunteer, then I’ll make time for it. If I want to have backyard kiddy pool parties and invent my own cocktail, I’ll do just that. August will be here soon enough, and everyone knows that August is kind of like the Sunday of summer, so maybe then I’ll start gearing up for fall and reading about how to inspire intrinsic motivation. Until then, I’m going to master the art of doing nothing, and I am finally remembering why I used to like summer in the first place.