Today, as we walked hand and hand from our neighborhood pool towards the Y, the King of Everything pestered me about his summer plans, somehow unable to comprehend the glorious weeks that stretched ahead of him a scant 14 days in the future. “And then what? And then what?”
I love the local YMCA camp because my son grows muscles and character there. My son loves it because it’s a whole different set of rules, with camp counselors who wear reindeer antlers in July and hold him to a different set of rigid standards than the ones he’s up against at school. And though I forked over a sum rather alarmingly close to a thousand dollars for six weeks of camp this summer at the Y alone, it’s still the least expensive option I’m willing to consider. I squeezed together enough to send him to a week of camp at the Zoo this year, too, and wistfully put away the brochures for t-ball camp. Maybe next summer. The amount of money my ex hasn’t paid is staggering. I try not to think of all the amazing things my son could be doing with his summer… and then I shrug and am grateful for the fact that I, at least, am busting my ass and can provide for him. I’m just sorry it’s not everything my dreamer son longs for–but some of those things are never mine to provide.
We’re going to Maine in June and my mother has an adventure planned for the kid in July. As I rattled off his summer, week by glorious week, it sounded so endless, and yet so quick. Is this how life slips by us? One golden summer week, one glorious winter snowstorm, at a time? I’m deeply dissatisfied with the way we’ve structured our lives, us humans. So much work for others, so little time with the people we love most.
And slipping between the great blocks of weeks doing this, that and the other, this summer, will be Friday evenings around the fountain, fireorks along the river, gelatto at twighlight, a picnic in the park awaiting a summer night movie on the green.
Hey, soccer mom! Sounds like a glorious summer for remembering, too. I’m so glad you had time with them. I’ve got to work so hard to make ends meet, I don’t have much time during the week with the Kid… but I’m looking forward to all we’ll get to do this summer, meted out in short bursts of escape from the everyday grind.
Sounds like a glorious summer- I was not getting any financial support for a long time. I did not make enough in my full-time job to pay for the bills let alone the extras. And I was attending night school for much of their young lives. However, my kids still talk about all the time we have had together. Thing is, you make the MOST of the time you do have. Evenings together playing board games or sports, weekend road trips. You can make it work.
And he will remember those times.