To the parent counting summers

I’ve been blogging since my oldest child was two years old.

Today, my children are 16, 13, and 10. On the first day of school, we took the same annual photo that we first took ten years ago when my daughter was a baby. This explains why my husband is holding her. It’s a game to see how long they can do it.

This past summer we took more family vacations, hosted our children’s friends, and helped facilitate their plans and activities; yet, the summer still flew by, as it does.

I hear the ticking clock as it counts down to the time when it’s no longer all three of them living at home.

If you’re a parent who is also counting the summers, you’re in good and supportive company.

Here’s how I’m handling it:

I recognize that I’m experiencing a shift in my own identity. I’m no longer a mom to littles, and I’m constantly reminding myself that how I interact with them matters. This season is an opportunity to lay the foundation for the relationship that we’ll have when they’re adults.

I’m implementing “forced family fun” and calling it by name. I’ve discovered that it’s better to own it, poke some fun at it, and communicate that I want to be intentional about family time. I don’t take it for granted anymore.

My children have been receptive to the transparency, although my oldest likes to joke, “Mom and Dad want to spend time with us before we move out of the house and leave them forever.”

I’m giving them space to prioritize their social life. Remember how much fun you had when you were a teen?

I’m reminding them that I’m still the parent. Poor choices have consequences. That part is no fun.

I’m taking less photos. No exaggeration: I have close to 100,000 digital photos capturing their childhood. Stop the insanity. Now, if I feel compelled to capture a moment, I do, but I do it quickly. Snap, snap, snap and be done.

My kids are more willing to pose when they know I’m going to be quick about it.

Besides, it only takes one photo to recall a memory; to proclaim with one quick selfie that “school’s out for summer!”

I’m 100% okay with my desire to document moments with photos. And, I’m acutely aware that it’s more important to live these moments.

I’m recognizing that getting older is a bittersweet process for them too. Tweens and teens don’t get the same kind of attention as chubby-cheeked toddlers. I long to hold them again and tote them around on my hip. I can still hold my 10-year-old daughter, but she’s strong and mostly holding herself—like climbing a pole.

But I also love getting to know and experience who they’re becoming. I want them to know that I see them. I want them to know that who they are right now is amazing and more than enough.

And then I tell them to go clean their room.