Pumpkins deck doorways, skeletons adorn front yards, orange lights glow.
Little princesses, ninjas, sports stars and singers parade the sidewalks, parents in tow.
We open our doors, greet our neighbors’ children, offer them Twizzlers and Twix, Snickers and Sour Patch Kids, pretzels, popcorn, fruit snacks and more.
We say, “Wow, look at that costume!” “Happy Halloween!” “Here, have a treat!’
What we mean is, *I see you.* *You are welcome here.* *Take and eat.*
This is a night when children are cherished.
And I wonder, what would happen if we held on to our Halloween spirit?
How would the world change if we opened our doors — and shared — more often?
Jack, Adam and I have been watching a group of goslings that live near our apartment. At the start of June, the goslings’ fuzzy yellow feathers began turning light gray. Whenever we’d pass them on the dog walk, their mama would stare menacingly at us, and if anyone got too close, she’d hiss.
“Why is she hissing, Mom?” eight-year-old Jack asked.
“Well, the mother wants to make sure her babies are safe,” I said, giving her a knowing nod. “She’s warning us not to mess around with her goslings… or else.”
“Or else what?” he pressed.
“Or else mother goose will fight us,” I chuckled, guiding us forward. We had an afternoon snack and an hour of screentime to look forward to, maybe a trip to the pool afterwards. Now mother goose was in protector mode, but I wondered if she ever felt exhausted by a barrage of snack requests, or even perplexed by how to entertain her brood. And, what did she look like when she was at peace?
Recently, the boys and I were walking our dog and we encountered the goslings again. I think. Honestly, they looked so large, they passed for geese. Closer inspection revealed their shortened tails and beaks, but, my, my, they’d changed. Astonishingly, their mother seemed nonplussed by their growth and our presence.
So it is with my boys, who, in the course of six weeks, have grown longer limbs and extra bumps and bruises and daily look as if they’re about to take flight. Unlike mother goose, I have zero chill about this reality and luckily, several summers before they leave home. Like our gosling friends, we’ve fallen into a summer rhythm with increased independence. Here are ten things that are helping us survive these long, hot weeks of change and growth.
Baseball: This was Jack’s second year of youth baseball, and while it wasn’t my favorite due to a cool, wet spring, I still enjoyed watching him play. Jack’s catching and throwing improved a lot this past season, and three-year-old Adam even made a buddy on the sidelines. Interestingly, my favorite part of this season hasn’t been the formal games at all, it’s been practicing with Jack and our family. We’ll either meet at a park I love or play ball in the yard at my folks’ house, where my sons’ grandparents, uncle and cousins can join in. Some of our sweetest moments happened with a wiffle ball and plastic bat, racing barefoot around imaginary bases.
My parents: Since school let out, we’ve been traveling to and from Chicago’s western suburbs in search of a new home. As anyone who’s searching for a house knows, the market is moving quickly and if a house comes up that you like, you need to see it ASAP. Bringing kids to showings is… not ideal. Thankfully, my folks have stepped in to watch Jack and Adam while my husband and I visit homes. They are saints for being ready to host the boys, including special treats and trips to the comic store for baseball cards, and I’ve loved seeing their relationships deepen. Grandparents to the rescue!
Summer skincare: As an aging millennial on the cusp of 40, daily facial sunscreen is a must: I use this SPF 50 tinted one on average days and this glowy version when I’m feeling fancy. I’m all about protecting my sons’ fair skin as well. When I’m out in the sun with the boys, we slather on this Unseen Sunscreen dupe I found at Trader Joe’s in June (sadly, this product is no longer available) or waterproof sunscreen from Target.
Simple breakfast: With warmer weather here, I’ve set aside my usual scrambled eggs for breakfast in favor of cool, creamy yogurt. I recently discovered Ratio yogurt, which is low in sugar, high in protein and my new go-to quick breakfast, paired with homemade peanut butter energy balls or fruit. My favorite flavor is vanilla. The boys enjoy Chobani flips (their favorites include mint chip, key lime pie and cookie dough). We’ve also been stocking up on juicy watermelon, which they both eat nonstop.
Library pick up: Lately, we’ve been on the run so often that we aren’t able to spend time lingering at the library. Enter: library hold pick up. Instead of browsing the shelves, I’ll sit with the boys and ask them what they’d like to read, then request those books using my library app. A few days later, I’ll receive a notification email to visit the library. We’ll breeze inside to drop off old books and collect our holds, then go on our way. This is my new favorite thing and it’s helping my boys conquer their respective literary canons (for Jack, the Captain Underpants series and Adam, the Berenstain Bears). As for me, I’m enjoying plenty of poetry and working my way through the School for Good and Evil (YA fantasy) series.
My writing group: I adore the women in my writing group. This year, we leveled up and now have an official Voxer thread in addition to our Slack group and text thread. We swap recipes, drop book recs, celebrate life wins, discuss how we are occupying our kids, ask “Is it just me or… ?” and, oh yes, we also chat about writing. They’ve been my summer lifeline as we all navigate the delight and challenges of parenting in the summer.
Quiet time with screens: Yes, we use screens — with boundaries — as a tool to entertain our children. With a three-year-old who’s fighting his midday nap and a precocious eight-year-old, I need relief. This summer it’s available thanks to Let’s go Pikachu on Switch for Jack and Paw Patrol DVDs for Adam. My rule for the summer is no screens in the morning, so my kids usually spend an hour in their respective universes after lunch or before dinner, giving me an hour to catch up on chores, meal prep or my reading.
Playdates: Without the regular rhythm of school pickup and drop off plus apartment living, my kiddos and I are missing interactions with our pals. They’re with me nearly all day every day, which is wonderful, but we need variety! Consequently, I’ve been intentional about setting playdates with children and moms we love. We’ll meet at the pool, a park or in someone’s home and let our kids run and play together. These connections are like a deep exhale for everyone.
My summer uniform: I’ve been living in these chino shorts (in army green and pink), paired with a cute tank top. To rest my hair from heat styling, I’ve been wearing it wet with a claw clip. These sandals (in almond) have been my go-to shoes for summer for three years running. They can be dressed up or down, and they’re incredibly comfy. As for my boys, they’re choosing comfy athletic shorts and shirts, paired with blue slide sandals.
Flexibility: At the end of every Orange Theory class, the head coach at my studio says stretching is the “secret sauce” to longevity. What works for the body can also work for the mind. Perhaps the biggest thing that has helped me this summer has been a flexible mindset. I’ve never been great at adjusting plans but since summer started, I’ve had to shift gears to address family obligations, child injuries (everyone is okay, but we did have one urgent care visit) and house hunting. Letting go of plans and expectations is a good exercise in humility for someone like me. Maybe by the end of the summer, I’ll be more chill? Maybe. (Hey coach, I’m certainly stretching!) Anyway, I do not pretend to know what’s in store for our little flock amid life’s many uncertainties, but one day soon, I hope we’ll stretch our wings and soar home.
God of ice cream cones and sun-kissed cheeks, God of sticky fingers and pool-soaked bodies, You made summertime, with its warm breezes and ample sunshine.
You gave us wispy, white clouds for watching, Rolling tides for splashing, Sand for digging and building castles.
Be with me now as I parent my children through this season, As we, together, navigate Longer days and unstructured time.
You know that “School’s out for the summer” Contains multitudes — stress and sweetness, dread and relief. “What can we do?” and “Can I have another snack?” The answer varies, depending on the hour.
To support our kids through this season means Pool passes and park playdates, Sports camps and Vacation Bible School, Family travel and time unstructured.
Let us see the blank space on the calendar Not as a challenge to be feared, But as a gift of rest to be savored Moments imprinted on our hearts.
Let us revel in the joy of our children When they witness butterflies soaring Or dandelions blooming, When they take off on their bikes for the first time, And savor that first ripe blueberry.
Let us celebrate their beauty As they learn to swim and bike, As they get lost in their favorite book, As they slide, swing, and run at the park, As they dig in the dirt and help plant tomatoes.
And when the days grow long and tedious, And we cannot fathom grappling with one more tantrum, Let us draw on the support of our village — Neighbors, family, church members, friends Let us hear: “You’re doing great.”
Remind us you are near — in the cool waters of the creek, Juicy bites of watermelon, The surprise rainbow, The light of fireflies, A campfire’s glow, And the joy of watching our children grow. Amen.
Immersed in the world of Dogman, our dog curled against your chest, your head resting atop the mega Pikachu pillow, one leg dangling off the leather couch, and laughter bubbling out of your mouth. What I like most about you now is that when you’re reading, you’re completely at ease.
photo credit: Rachel Liv Photography
I want to remember you like this, too: Handsome in your chambray shirt, standing tall with a genuine grin, your hands anchoring your little brother’s shoulders. Chances are high that he kicked you before this photo — you are his nemesis and his idol — still, you keep answering the call to lead and love your brother (sometimes giving tough love). I am awed by your nurturing spirit.
I need to remember you like this: Far away from me, eyes locked on the horizon, pointing to something unknown. Was it the waves breaking? The impossibly blue sky? All I know is that, going to the beach was your idea you asked us all summer when we could go, and on Labor Day, the wind was whipping like crazy, but you got your wish.
After I took this photo, you sprinted toward Lake Michigan, your little brother (naturally) at your heels, by the time you reached the water, your sunny blonde hair was tousled and sandy. Eyes shining, you stepped into the tide. Gripping your brother’s hand, I watched. For the first time, I wasn’t afraid if you could hold your own, because this summer, you swam like a fish at the pool. Still you stayed nearby (a small mercy on a day when the waves were wild), you even came back to me the first time I called.
One day sooner than I’d like, you’ll swim away for good. Like the stones your brother collects from the shore, I store up this truth to revisit later. Today you’re still my boy, content at home and also pulled toward adventure. I want to cherish you at eight — so ebullient, so bright.
This poem is dedicated to my son Jack; today is his eighth(!) birthday. The title of this piece was inspired by poet Michelle Windsor.
Erin Strybis 