Looking Back On Summer

School ended in June and we were ready for summer.

Booked two weeks of camp, paid the pool membership, and organized a slew of educational materials. Summer would unfold like a never-ending, educational journey!

In my mind, each morning I’d have a fun little worksheet laid out that my kiddo could tackle while breakfast finished cooking. Then we’d be off to do something fun for the day: the park (before it got insanely hot) or a local kid’s spot such as Rolly Pollies, My Gym, a bounce house, or a children’s museum. And playdates. Lots of playdates…because it takes a village to maintain your sanity when the kids are crying boredom just two hours into summer mornings. This summer would be educational—she would be totally prepared for the coming school year.

This awesome plan lasted exactly two weeks.

Once off the school schedule, our darling wanted to sleep in…she is totally not one with the morning sun. She preferred a leisurely morning beginning with staying under the covers for another 15, 20, 30 minutes. She eyed the elementary worksheets at the kitchen table with disdain, and in her best imitation of 15-year-old sass rolled her eyes and moaned, “Mom, not again!” While the educator in me wanted to mandate fun worksheets, the mom in me backed off. I adopted an attitude of acceptance.

And while I worried about academic backsliding, I knew that this time would be fleeting. And the following years would be full of rigorous academic quests that would challenge and frustrate. So I threw our planned summer out the window and asked myself a truly important

Question: What does she really need?
Answer: Confidence.

One of the biggest differences I’ve seen in the classroom is how students deal with frustration.

Kids with confidence aren’t deterred when they don’t grasp something immediately; they keep trying because they believe they’ll get it. Kids lacking confidence are often crippled by frustration because they don’t believe they’ll get something. So how could I help my child build real, reliable confidence? By introducing new skills and having her learn that she could do them.

So instead of trucking off to the Children’s Museum or the Science Center, we focused on mastering new swimming strokes at the pool. The pride she felt in diving off the diving board and swimming the whole length of the pool was so much more important than perfecting her letter K. “Watch this!” she’d call and she’d launch herself fearlessly into the deep end and swim underwater towards me, brimming with pride.

This is what’s it’s about, I thought.

The month of July was full of late bedtimes as the fireflies arrived.

These tiny bugs imparted important lessons: planning, persistence, and patience were just three. But catching and releasing these glowing beings became a treasured experience. Both our daughter and her friends who’d stayed long after dinner would run laughing after the fleeting lights until they successfully captured their tiny friends. “Look!”, she’d run breathlessly toward us, “This little guy was tricky. But I didn’t give up! I caught him!”

Modelling is a powerful tool, as well. So I mustered up my confidence and tried paddleboarding.

I’d been eyeing this new activity for a while, but I’d been leery to actually try it…well, because it involves balance and strength and coordination with a bit of grace. And we got a group of friends together and we went and laughed and my daughter witnessed everything: the attempt at something new, the effort required, and the never-giving-up until you’ve got it. And we discovered something new our family likes to do together.

We still visited the Science Center (once) and enjoyed playdates at friends’ houses. But when I asked my daughter about what she loved best about this summer it wasn’t the trips or playdates with friends. What she loved most was simply being outside: catching fireflies, drawing with sparklers way past her bedtime, swimming, and playing flashlight tag. “And those watermelon popsicles, mom. The ones we made together. Those were good too.”

Looking back, it’s the moments spent together that are most important.

It wasn’t the day trips or new facts learned. We both remember the moments of accomplishment, no matter how big or how small. I’ll let her teachers help her with that crooked letter K; as her mom, I’ll help her learn to believe in herself—one small accomplishment at a time.



After surviving ten years as a high school English teacher, Kathryn opted to create imaginary worlds and spend her days hunting for ladybugs with her daughter. She has written for ChildGood and Babies and Breastfeeding magazines as well as various sites around the web.