From late August until late May, I am unequivocably an insanely productive person. I homeschool part time, teach at a university, act as the advisor and events coordinator for my department, manage our home, and take part in a number of book clubs/ girls nights/ mom groups that is deeply troubling (according to my children). I do not say this to boast, but rather to emphasize the rigid nature of the schedule that these commitments require. We are not miserable those 9 months of the year, but we are certainly not footloose and fancy free.

But Memorial Day to Labor Day? I, my friends, am a certified Fun Mom. Sure, we can have adventures. Yes, you can swim in the creek. Of course, we can do bubbles, even though you are just going to dump them out and be sticky. Why not get messy- let’s just take a bath in the middle of the day.

I live for the summer months. For the break from structure and hounding productivity. For the pause and the chance to be utterly delighted in the little people my children are. For evenings where James and I finish the day on our back porch. For mornings, every morning, that start with us strolling to analyze and discuss any new growth in our garden. (We have a garden that I haven’t killed yet! Miracle of miracles! And wow that’s an olddddd blog throw back. ) For as many meals on the grill as possible and neighbors who wander over and linger .

The summer solstice was last week, and even though I know that it doesn’t totally align with the halfway point of our summer, it starts me panicking. In the back of my mind I am always aware that every day is getting shorter, dark creeping slowly back in.

But for now, summer is still here and I’m holding on to every bit of light with every last bit of my Fun Mom energy.