The Summer I Stopped Trying to Make Everything Magical

Every year when May rolls around I feel crushed by the pressure of figuring out what summer will look like. Once Maycember (IYKYK) hits everything feels urgent. I cannot believe how many summer activities start registration 6 months ahead of time and I am rarely prepared enough to schedule that far out for my kids.

Summer break somehow makes me feel like I need to give my kids the kind of childhood everyone seems to be posting online. The problem is that summer suddenly starts to feel less like a season to enjoy and more like something I need to manage correctly. I want the backyard bonfires. I want the cannon balls at the pool. I want my kids to remember summer as fun and joyful. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was becoming so focused on creating the perfect summer that I was missing the one we were actually living. I was distracted by expectations and comparison.

And honestly? That is exhausting!

This year, I am really feeling the Lord clearly telling me that my children do not need a magical mother. They need a present one not one that is stressed about performing. For me, being more present will look like:

• Not constantly multitasking

• Not overbooking our days

• Putting my phone down

• Allowing them, and me, to be bored (this will be the hardest for me. I loathe being bored.)
  

I will tell you right now that this will take a great deal of intention for me. I have always been the activities mom. If we have a free day, I will almost always find a way to fill it with more. More events. More experiences. More memory-making. More rushing the kids around. More stress for me.

But Jesus never modeled rushing people around. And if my goal is to be more like Him, then I need to learn how to surrender that part of me that wants to fill all voids with being busy.

In Matthew 11:28, Jesus says:

“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

I think many moms enter summer already weary. We carry the mental load of the family. We plan, organize, remember, prepare, anticipate, and absorb everyone’s emotions all day long. Then summer arrives and somehow the expectations increase even more.

Now we are supposed to make it magical too.

But what if we are taking away some of the fun of summer by trying to make it perfect?

What if our homes do not need to feel impressive to feel meaningful?

Sometimes the simplest things become the best memories when we are actually present for them. For example: My kids have always loved a good sun shower. If there is a day where it is hot and it suddenly rains they all run into the yard to dance and sing. There is something so pure about the joy they have in those moments, and it is not an experience I could ever create for them myself. I can only choose to join them in it.

Psalm 46:10 says:

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

I used to think “being still” meant quiet time alone with the Lord. And sometimes it does.

But lately I think part of being still is learning to stop striving long enough to notice the life God already gave us.

To stop trying to curate every moment because not every summer memory needs to be social media worthy. Not every moment needs to become a lesson or an accomplishment.

So this summer, I am trying to release the pressure.

I am trying to remember that my children will probably not remember whether I made every moment exciting. But I hope they remember how it felt to be intentional about our time together. How it felt to slow down. How it felt to be present.

And I want to protect that for these last few summers I have with them.