[From the archives over at Unforced Rhythms. Because, Finals.]
Remember when you were little, in
particular, the elementary school years; remember that first day of summer
break? The whole world was ripe with possibilities; the air pregnant with days
hanging upon endless days of potential adventure. You could taste the freedom;
the earth seemed to give off the smell of it. It was palpable, tactile. The
world thrummed to the beat of it.
I’m having that same experience today. I
got up, the kids are still sleeping, and had no pending obligations (no papers
or tests on the near horizon, no reading that I should be doing). All at once,
I wanted to take a nap (because I could), read a fluff book (but I haven’t been
to the library for fun in a few months), write letters, scrapbook, paint
something (not a room, but something completely frivolous like a canvas), sit
on my porch and do nothing but drink a cup of coffee. And I couldn’t decide,
because at this point, they were all viable possibilities. The openness, the
unfettered days of summer stretching out before me, tantalizingly spacious.
It is intoxicating. No, literally. I get
this way every year: actually intoxicated with the possibilities that summer
holds. I make grandiose plans fully intending to see each one through. It’s
headier than the New Year for me. I have a “this-is-the-summer-I-will-[fill
in the blank]” condition. And it’s chronic.
Last summer was the
“I-will-teach-the-children-Spanish-and-how-to-play-the-piano” summer. Granted,
in order to teach them Spanish, I would first have to learn myself. And I was
forced to admit, (I humbly apologize, Mrs. Curtis) that I could only read the
treble clef, after much line and space counting. So a basic C scale was all we
learned last year. But we did spend a week with my family on the beach in North
Carolina. And we camped a few times, attended the Renaissance Festival, caught
a few Rockies games, and took in the DCI tournament at Invesco Field. So while
the summer was hardly a bust, I am aching to plan this year’s activities.
After heeding the multiple warnings from
the school and experts, I have vowed to do some form of math, reading, and
writing with the kids every
day. We wouldn’t want the children losing 20% of their knowledge base in 3
short months! We will go to the library once a week, hit the Denver Art Museum
once a month, concoct science projects, seek out classical concerts. We will
find somewhere that lets 5 year-olds volunteer and do something that will make a
difference. Instead of Spanish, since I’m diving in next term, I think this
would be a great time for the family to learn Greek (my husband who is years
ahead, can teach us simple songs and vocabulary; though I have yet to run this
plan by him). Of course, there’s still the piano sitting unused in the living
room, aching for someone to play. (And studies show that children who play
music perform better in math and science; so not teaching them piano might
actually be detrimental.)
Or, we could sleep in every day. Hit the
pool, take some bike rides. Do art projects, spend more time getting to know
God, each other, and our neighbors, find little ways of making this world a
nicer place to live. Hike, camp, fish. Relax. Follow each day wherever it takes
us. We read daily anyway; and math is everywhere. Instead of a perfectly
planned couple of weeks, we could have another summer filled with new
experiences that lead to memories, laughter, friends, and family.
Maybe for me, this-is-the-summer-I-…quit
expecting too much.
What about you?
No comments:
Post a Comment