It’s always this way after the 4th of July. That summer fatigue sets in just a little, and then summer speeds up even more. It’s like someone hit the fast forward button on an old school VCR when all you want to do is watch a comforting movie. Because here, the 4th officially marks the halfway point, and we’re on the back end sliding towards the start of school: August 4th.
When I say sliding, it feels like that muddy entry into a pool of skeletons a-la poltergeist. I’m clinging to the side and there’s that inevitable pool beneath and yes I do have a flair for the dramatic, why do you ask? So I’m always resistant when Jenna breaks out her pumpkins and mums in August for the ‘gram, and I’m still nursing a marg, poolside. No, I am not a basic white girl. I am a summer forever girl. Which still makes me basic. And white. But tan and with less pumpkins. Please hold your plaid for a more appropriate month.
Our home is a gloriously-rotating door all summer long for pool season. I get this odd mix of nostalgia, wanting to relish absolutely everything with a side of meal-prep and dishwasher-load fatigue.
My only odd comfort on the season ending, is highlighted with a Target trip to inhale the plastic fumes from the sudden influx of back to school supplies. My kids grew past the point of monogrammed backpacks, so then I took comfort in locker mates, and now I don’t even have that because apparently no one actually uses their lockers in high school. {Duh, mom.} So then I’m all, “Here’s a pretty binder and hopefully a colorful notebook because it’s the little things that help.”
Me. They help me. Shhhh.
At some point in motherhood, I blinked.
I went from just surviving, {if you’re in the middle of it now and wondering if it does get better, just read this post because it ABSOLUTELY does} to then, numbering their summers because am I even a mom if I don’t?
To this.
{Yes, the word at the front feels more than appropriately relevant, but minors read our site and mom’s gonna mom.}
A little bit of resignation. A whole lot of embracing the moment. Because this is all we have.
This is my point: it all happens so fast.
When I was in the throes of it all, and some well-meaning older mom would smile and say that to me, I’d be all “That’s so COOL MARSHA but that isn’t helping my current constant state of exhaustion and also FEEL FREE TO TAKE MY ADORABLE CHILDREN.” And now I am her, she is me, I am MARSHA. I think she was smiling because that stage is honestly just so insufferable once you’ve done your time. PTSD and such. Get your toddlers away from me, they’re feral.
And I’ve really felt that this summer. More than any other. Perhaps it was the college visits. Or the senior photo or all of the above. His proofs arrived the other day, and at some point I’ve dubbed this “The Summer I Had Feelings,” because I instantly cried. #teamconradImeancollege {side note: yes, my middle sucked me in to this TV series, but she also devoured the books I’m always game for a reader}
He’ll be 18 in August. I’ll take his actual photos next spring, but I was all WHO KNEW THESE YEARBOOK PHOTOS COULD BE SO BEAUTIFUL?! Throw some stickers on the back of my car because I am the proud mom stereotype who immediately shares proofs, and I don’t even care.
My youngest turns 14 today. See our favorite post for him here {we share these every year for each kiddo, again, not even sorry}.
And we celebrate 21 years together, in just a few short weeks.
So yeah. I’m a little bit sentimental. I’ve spent this summer savoring it all. Long pool days, and sweet gatherings. Movie binges prepping for the last Indiana Jones. A trip to the lake. Trying a few new junk food recipes. Long conversations around the table… just soaking up my kids.
I shared a little on Instagram stories and the response was overwhelming because moms everywhere: we are not alone. This stage is just hard and beautiful in all the right ways.
So, someone hand me a pumpkin so I can sit on my porch in August with my pilgrim hat and wave at the school busses because I will resign sadly when school arrives. Can I turn said pumpkin into one of those coconut drinks? That’s the only way it works for me. In the meantime, I’m just sentimentally soaking it all up. For the record, I’ll try my very best to embrace fall when it arrives, too.
My feelings have feelings about their feelings. This is why every year, I ride into battle with the mantra LONG LIVE SUMMER. This is a bit of the beginning of the next phase. I want to hold on and soak it all in and relish every moment.
The sentimental side of summer.
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