With spring break just behind us, my thoughts have swiftly shifted to the upcoming summer. As the last day of school approaches in less than two months, I find myself deep in discussions about summer plans.
Living in a community that boasts a variety of engaging and budget-friendly summer activities—from swimming lessons and cooking workshops to ballet and soccer camps—has been a blessing. In previous years, the arrival of the spring/summer program guide meant hours spent poring over options: I would highlight choices, dog-ear pages, text fellow parents to coordinate activities, and strategically plan camps for my two kids, Jake and Max. Registration dates were marked on the calendar, and I would be poised at my computer when the sign-up opened, often spending hundreds (if not thousands) on various summer programs.
However, this year has been different. The program guide, which landed on my doorstep over two months ago, remains mostly untouched. While I’ve flipped through it a few times, I always return it to the cupboard without making any decisions.
Aside from a short extension class through Jake’s school and spring baseball, I haven’t committed to any summer activities. I know these programs fill up quickly, and with each passing day, I risk a summer spent with nowhere to go and nothing to do—which, in a way, may be exactly what I want.
Initially, the idea of an unscheduled summer felt a bit daunting. For the last five years, summer camps have kept my kids active, provided me with a much-needed respite, and fostered friendships. As a work-from-home mom, I have relied on structured activities to ensure a few uninterrupted hours for myself during the summer months. I feared that my kids (and I) would feel the sting of boredom with two months of free time.
Yet, those fears have been overshadowed by a surprising sense of relief and excitement. The freedom to embark on spontaneous road trips, beach days, and impromptu gatherings with friends is liberating. With a pool pass in hand, swimming lessons can happen whenever the mood strikes. Embracing a little boredom might just be the catalyst for new adventures, creative ideas, and unique activities.
I recognize how fortunate we are to have the option to dictate our summer schedule, and I don’t want to clutter it with self-imposed responsibilities and endless “shoulds.” Now that Jake and Max are 5 and 8, we find ourselves in a sweet spot of parenting. They can play independently and with friends, yet they still find joy in simple summer pleasures like catching fireflies and playing capture the flag with the neighborhood crew. Our sports commitments are relaxed, with practices just a couple of nights a week—no daily grind with tournaments looming on the horizon. Why rush into chaos when we can savor these fleeting moments of childhood?
So, my husband and I made a pact: fewer structured activities and more freedom. When I shared our summer plans with Jake and Max, I anticipated some pushback, perhaps begging for camps or classes. To my surprise, they responded positively, albeit with a few questions. I explained that aside from their school extension class ending in June, they would be enrolled in one sports team each—baseball for Jake and tee ball for Max, both of which meet only twice weekly. Our days would be wide open for trips to the lake, inviting friends over, or simply lounging by the pool. I also suggested we keep journals to document our summer escapades and playfully warned them that if they came to me complaining of boredom, they might not enjoy my suggestions for how to spend their time (think folding laundry or cleaning up the yard!).
While I’m uncertain how our “Summer of Whatever” will unfold, I anticipate it will involve moments of frustration and perhaps some necessary “time-outs.” Yet, I hope it will also create opportunities for bike rides, nature walks, and spontaneous visits with family and friends. I want to replace the rigidity of the school year with a sense of possibility, even if just for a couple of months. This summer could teach us all, myself included, the importance of slowing down and acknowledging that our experiences are shaped by what we make of them, not merely what is handed to us.
I view this summer as a kind of experiment. Will it lead to growth and creativity, or will I find that our family thrives on routine and structure? Perhaps the most pressing question is how long it will take for me to feel overwhelmed and revert to searching for that abandoned program guide, hoping to find just one class—be it basket weaving or croquet—that can restore some semblance of peace.
In the end, we’ll soon discover what this summer holds.
Summary:
Emily Carter reflects on her shift from a summer packed with scheduled activities to embracing an unscheduled summer with her two sons, Jake and Max. While initially daunting, the freedom of unstructured time offers opportunities for creativity, adventure, and bonding as a family. With fewer commitments, Emily hopes to cultivate a sense of possibility, allowing her children to enjoy the simple joys of childhood while learning to navigate boredom and spontaneity.