Summer in the Sun

July in Arizona is some of our most intolerable weather. Until monsoon storms slowly roll in behind a wall of dust, we’re trapped in an oven, with daytime temperatures hovering around 110 degrees. It’s a sunny summer, where adding water is the only way to survive. Pools, water parks, splash pads. It’s why the population here decreases noticeably, as summer break makes way for out-of-state travel. We took advantage of the opportunity to get out just like everyone else.

Our first stop was Florida. No, not much of a difference when it came to the heat, but the water can’t be beat and when you’re used to 110, 80 even with humidity feels like a breeze! We started our summer in Orlando, enjoying the Disney parks for two days, meeting up with our friends and their three boys, and then we spent a day at Epic Universe, the new theme park that includes a land replicating all things How to Train Your Dragon. The boys could’ve spent the entire day in that one section of the park. At this age, they were up for all the rides, and we went on them two or three times! We played all of the games at Nintendo World, walked through Harry Potter land, and returned to the Isle of Burke to re-ride their favorites. I’m so glad we made the trip while they’re still the perfect ages to get immersed in their imaginations and discover excitement at every turn.

From Orlando, we drove to the place where it all started- the Gulf Coast, Panama City Beach where Drew and I met and got married. We celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary at the same beach, watching our boys play in the water for six hours straight, until we finally dragged them out at dusk because we had to eat dinner. Both kids tried new things, Little Bro spent our life savings in platters of shrimp and scallops, and we soaked in the salt and sea.

From the beach to the mountains, we took a July trip to Denver where we saw a concert at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre, met up with old friends, and hiked in Rocky Mountain National Park. The boys added badges to their Junior Ranger collection, spotted bighorn sheep and elk, and Big B took a risky scramble up and down a waterfall that almost gave mom a heart attack, but he made it just fine without a second thought.

I love taking a break from the rigor of school and work and getting to check off another state, visiting friends and spending quality time with family. Summer is one of the hardest seasons in the desert, but there are still parts of it that I can appreciate. There’s a pride to not sweating 100-degree heat. There’s a serenity to watching evening storms roll in. There’s a nonchalance when chatting with neighbors we run into at the pool anytime we need to cool off while burning some energy for the kids.

School starts back next week, and I can’t believe another summer is already coming to an end. While I’m not ready for the homework, sports practices, and busy schedules, I am ready for the weather that comes with it.

The Grief of Parenthood

Another morning rush routine, but this one felt a little different. It was final. Later than ever, we grabbed shoes and water bottles and scurried to the car with just two minutes to spare before the gates closed for school by the time we arrived. It was the last day of the year. For Big Bro, it was his last day of elementary school.

I said have fun and pulled away and rounded the corner of the drive lane and then, I cried. I don’t know what’s harder, not knowing it’s the last time, or knowing it’s the last time. As the realization that I’d never drop them both at school together again hit me like a ton of bricks, I sobbed my way to work and spent 10 minutes in the parking lot re-doing my makeup. Change is inevitable. That doesn’t mean it gets any easier.

Just a week later, during a particularly sassy tween moment with my oldest son, I found myself missing him. We were arguing about me needing help with a task, and in the back of my mind, I thought of the previous version of him that wanted to help with absolutely everything. Even if it took half a century or made a terrible mess. The version of him that mispronounced “yogrit” and needed help tying his shoes. The version that danced across the house and rolled hot wheels cars across restaurant tables. Where did that little boy go?

Parenting is a lot of things. It’s tremendous joy, it’s determined sacrifice, it’s worry, it’s laughter, it’s love, and it is also grief. Knowing I’ll never hear the word “yogrit” again or drop both boys off at school together tears a part of my heart so slowly and quietly I almost didn’t notice. I certainly didn’t see it coming.

Brandi Carlisle released a new song recently called “You Without Me,” and there’s a line that says:

“Heavy are the hands that you are free to slip right through”

It resonated instantly. As parents, we spend so much time holding hands until ideally, they are free to slip right through. That’s the goal. Change is inevitable.

That doesn’t mean it gets any easier.

Morning Rush Routine

We’ve gone through several evolutions of our bedtime routine, but morning is a different story. I’d love to call it a routine, but it seems as if we just can’t get consistency into the start of our day. Only one thing has remained the same each morning: utter chaos.

I wake up with the best of intentions. My alarm goes off early so I have time to exercise for 30 minutes before the boys get breakfast. Instead, I stay in bed thinking of all of the reasons I don’t have to get up right that second. I plan for packing lunches, making their breakfast and getting myself ready to head off to work and school. Instead, I throw a fruit, vegetable and pbj into a lunchbox with a hope and a prayer that maybe a third will get eaten, I rush to get dressed while the boys toast frozen waffles, and I scramble to make coffee while yelling about putting on shoes. Most days, we’re lucky to get in the car with 10 minutes before their school gates close. We’re lucky we live very close to the school, which is also very close to work.

It doesn’t seem to matter how many different ways I try to make mornings a peaceful, organized affair. I’ve set reminders for each step that needs to be done, I’ve tried packing lunches the night before, and I’ve made my hair and makeup the most efficient process humanly possible. I even bought Big Bro his own alarm clock so he gets himself up and dressed before everyone else. But, no matter the tactic, we still end up piling into the car with minutes to spare and show up without a water bottle, or homework, or a trombone, or today- a lunchbox. (It doesn’t matter, he wasn’t going to eat half of it anyway)

We have five weeks left in the school year, and I doubt we’ll use it to miraculously pull off a polished morning exit. I had high hopes that by now we’d have it in the bag because next year, Big Bro will have to catch a bus on his own. He’s starting middle school. By the time the middle school bell rings, little b will have already been in his elementary classroom for an hour. Big B will need to find his shoes and remember his water bottle and lunchbox on his own.

Five more weeks to nail this morning routine so I can leave with the confidence of a mother whose son doesn’t follow right in her snooze button footsteps. Wish us luck.

Holiday Experiences Everywhere

Last weekend during a Costco trip, I spent $20 on a 90-pack of holiday themed hot cocoa cups. Did we need that many? Absolutely not. But, we needed a few and I didn’t want to make a trip somewhere else so I laughed and told the boys we had enough cocoa cups to last until they graduate college.

That night, I broke out the cups and a crockpot of cocoa for the boys and their friends while we toured the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights. Neighbors brought out tables of treats and cookies, and we all chatted and walked the streets like a more cheerful and far less scary Halloween.

In years past, we’d taken the kids to big name events like the Enchant Hallmark Christmas or Pratt Brothers Christmas, purchasing tickets and standing in long lines to ride a train or see a light show set to music. While I have great memories with our kids in those event centers or parks transformed into magical workshops or wonderlands, I’ve learned over the years that you don’t have to break the bank for a truly magical experience if you don’t want to. We’ve even had several encounters with the big man himself- Santa, without standing in a line at the mall for hours on end or reserving an appointment. Just yesterday morning he winked from across a farmer’s market, waiting with his wife for children to come ask about their lists.

Last night, we filled a couple more cups of cocoa and drove about 15 minutes to a neighborhood with a well-known light display so the boys could mail their letters to Santa, in a true North Pole mailbox (the only way to get it to the North Pole without using a ton of stamps.) When we pulled up, we realized the traffic was even more packed than we anticipated. We found ourselves in a turnaround, but caught a glimpse of a parade, so we parked. Walking over to the curb, we had a great spot to see the Queen Creek 4×4 Parade, an annual event I had no clue existed. There must have been over a hundred jeeps, go-carts and four wheelers, lit up and decorated, throwing candy and blasting Christmas music. We laughed and cheered as the boys filled their pockets. Then, we wandered the “Lights on Lark” display and dropped their letters in the mailbox, waving to Santa. We couldn’t have planned it better if we’d tried. And I think that’s the best part; the parts that come together when you don’t plan.

One of my favorite holiday memories happened because I couldn’t go to an annual holiday party. I was about 5 years old and I had the chicken pox. Instead, as a sort of consolation prize, my dad took me to a neighborhood much like “Lights on Lark,” where everyone on the street decked out their houses for all to enjoy. We walked down the street looking at lights, and of course, drank some hot cocoa.

I can definitely understand and appreciate annual family traditions of train rides, high dollar holiday events, and professional photos from Santa’s lap. But, for families that want to make memories without the means, there’s a joy in the simplicity and surprises that come with finding the magic everywhere you look. And if you want to add cocoa, I have about 70 cups left.

A Workbook Summer

Just before the end of the school year, a coworker suggested we print custom summer workbooks to give out to our students. Working in the communications department of a school district, I posed a few follow-up questions to weigh the costs and benefits, asking- “how many people do you think would use them?”

He explained his children’s summer routine of waking up and having workbook time at the kitchen table before reading and then playing. In a later meeting, several other coworkers, all educators, confirmed their children did summer work too. There I was, feeling like a terrible parent. My kids’ summer routine consists of tearing apart the house, lots of swimming, Lego building, traveling, and no structure. I didn’t get the workbook memo. We were supposed to be doing workbooks this whole time?! My son is entering sixth grade, we missed six YEARS of workbooks!

But this week on our vacation to Yellowstone National Park, I realized maybe I was a workbook mom all along.

Every time we visit a National Park, the boys do their Junior Ranger workbooks and earn the Junior Ranger badge for that park. They just earned two more this week for Yellowstone and Grand Teton, where they explored active geysers and hot springs, swam in a lake carved by glaciers, and spotted bears, bison, and other wildlife in their natural habitat. This amazing free program sparks curiosity in our kids and allows them to put what they’re experiencing into context, with activities about history, conservation and the natural world. On one of our hikes, Little Bro chatted nonstop about bison and bears, citing how much weight a bison could move, what bears ate during different seasons, how long they hibernated, and more.

So yeah, I guess I am a workbook mom. It’s not a kitchen table. It’s a little wilder than that, and there’s still no structure. But I think they learned a lot this summer just the same.

The Most Wonderful Time

If there’s a busier person than a parent of elementary-aged children during the holiday season, I don’t know who it is. Maybe an air traffic controller, or the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Maybe Beyoncé. But I think the sheer volume of holiday cheer and festivity crammed into the last month of the year is enough to rival even the highest-performing multitaskers.

It’s the week before winter break and I’m wrapping presents for a secret santa gift exchange and white elephant party. We shopped for cookie baking supplies for Little Bro’s class, donated cans to Big Bro’s class, planned their purchases for their holiday market, reserved their shaved ice fundraising treat, got bells for their Jingle jog, and of course it’s also Spirit Week. Tomorrow’s pajama day is about all I can handle.

Just when I thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel of emails, I received an alert for a “Crazy Sock Exchange.” I’m convinced the universe is just making things up at this point. We’ve done book exchanges and cookie exchanges, but a sock exchange- that’s a new one. Nevertheless, I got to work filling holiday socks with treats because at this point, what’s one more celebration?

I know in a few short days, the last week of the year will bring the bustle to a stop. We’ll get a break from work and school to relax and recharge before ringing in 2024. I’ll be basking in every slow minute of it.