Market Data 
When my kids file out of school before lunch on that final Friday in June, and I take the obligatory photos for the “before” and “after” posts, I get emotional, as all the parents do. But when I later walk away from the class picnic or playground and offer heartfelt goodbyes to the school year, I’m not sure whose heart is lighter — mine or my kids.
Sure, I’m sad to say goodbye to another year, but I’m also elated to step into my favorite yearly role as — summer mom.
I shine as a parent during the summer
As a true type B who loves eating ice cream, jumping in as many bodies of water as possible, soaking up outdoor arts and culture — and most importantly, being a laissez-faire parent — I embrace summer mom life with gusto. I genuinely feel that the months of July and August are my time to shine as a parent, and I dread the turning of the leaves.
Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate the learning, growth, and, most of all, the routine of the school year and the extra time it gives me to take care of myself. And I hate all the planning and forethought that goes into summer scheduling, especially camp signups.
But that can’t make up for the essential joy that settles into my being along with the heat. It’s not actually the lack of school that brings me joy; it’s the lack of layers, physical and metaphorical, between us and the world all summer long.
It’s pointing out sunsets and putting our feet in streams and sprinklers. It’s the smell of chlorine and wet pine trees after a storm. And yes, I prefer the brisk, scented efficiency of applying sunscreen and bug spray to hunting for mittens and jackets.
Nothing really counts during the summer
As we head out to all our activities, I relish a general sense that nothing “counts” in the summer, and there are fewer judgmental eyes on you as you shepherd your kids around.
If their hair is unkempt and they wear the t-shirts they slept in, it doesn’t matter. That shirt and that hair will be covered by popsicle melt, sand, sweat, or dirt within a few hours anyway.
There are smaller but deeper pleasures, too: longer days and more relaxed mornings mean that we don’t have to worry about super early wake-ups, which is great by itself. But the bonus is that our evenings are more fun, too — even when I work a full day, I can still enjoy my kids for a few hours, perhaps watching the Olympics or baseball, maybe even roaming around our city neighborhood and getting sprayed by a fire hydrant after dinner.
I also feel less pressure about my own appearance. During the school year, I try to maintain a certain level of dignity in how I look and dress. But in the summer, I put pink streaks in my hair and embrace a regular uniform of baseball cap, fanny pack, croakies on my sunglasses, and sensible waterproof sandals.
It makes me feel proud of myself as a parent, too. Because even if I’m not the neatest, the most organized, the queen of gentle parenting techniques, or the best at attending PTA meetings (or ever attending them), I have passed on to my offspring a little bit of what I love most about being a human.
I’m my best because I’m most relaxed
So even with the morning meltdowns, late bedtimes, bug bites, heat, and endless scheduling of different camps, I feel like I’m able to be at my best. And I’m at my best because I’m at my happiest and most relaxed.
I always cry on Labor Day when it’s all over. I know the school year will bring us all a good dose of sanity, calm, and productivity. And I know a lot of parents prefer the routine of the school year. But my heart will always cherish the chaos of summer.
