I'm a big believer in old-fashioned summers.
The ability to give my kids a carefree summer is one of my favorite things about writing (okay, okay you all read about my hot and steamy love affair with the current WIP so maybe that's not exactly the truth, but it's high on the list).
I love the structureless days. I love the way we drift through entire weeks on nothing more than whims and odd food choices. Berries and deli meat for breakfast, okay, why not. Sometimes I declare it a day of snacking and grazing, no proper meals allowed and that's exactly what we do.
Summer, of course, isn't all easy, breezy, effortless days. There's a transition period. We go from racing from one scheduled activity to the next during the school year to doing not much besides summer swim team.
Due to my love of unstructure (I'm not sure that's a word) there are the days, especially at the beginning of the summer, where the kids will ask with more than a little desperation, "What are we doing today?"
I'll say, "Well, I'm plannng on writing, maybe I'll go for a run and I'm dying to finish the book I'm reading. What are you planning on doing?"
They always look at me as though I've gone insane when I say things like that.
It takes a few uncomfortable weeks before the message sinks in. There are arguments, grouchiness, sassiness and general irritability. Then, at precisely the moment when I think I can't take any more and I should really have signed them up for more camps, everything clicks.
They figure it out. Fun is their responsibility and they are capable of creating it.
They've created an intricate pretend game that involves Beyblades, spinning tops that battle, for the uninitiated. All my big kitchen spoons have been co-opted for a game of spoon puppets. Swim suits and beach towels are hanging everywhere.
Summer has finally arrived. It's all in finding the right attitude.