summer lessons
June 10, 2015 § 2 Comments
Each summer dawns an uncertain but welcome reprieve from the predictable rhythm of school day routines. Some years our family escapes to adventure and other years we fall into the structure of previously orchestrated distractions. More recently our summers have evolved into an experiment in spontaneity.
In many ways the absence of plans has been freeing, our attentions are driven by whim. We rush towards casual invitations and welcome opportunity. Other days we are tasked to a burden of boredom that forces us to a simpler necessity of creativity. On these occasions I am reminded of my own carefree summer days, unstructured and filled with endless drifting; the chaffing restlessness that grates against rusty daydreams.
There is one small exception.
Over the years I’ve cornered pieces of the day for studies and responsibilities with a language that demands we validate play with work. This summer I am reframing the idea of summer learning.
To my children,
In the past I’ve bought academic books to ration time for skills, this year I want to give you a question or idea each day to wrestle for an answer. There’s something about working off the page that helps us think outside the box. (This was Dad’s idea.)
Rather than demand chores for play, I’d like you to play at helping. Work doesn’t have to be monotonous and play doesn’t have to be an enticement. I want you to manage your time and space with good humor and moderation.
Instead of handing you book titles someone else has deemed of value, I want you to find value in your love of reading. I’m worried less about titles or tracking your time between pages.
Most importantly, I don’t want to account for every minute. Summers were made for getting lost and finding time. Move with the sun and play under the stars, the days are as long as the possibilities are endless. The lessons are everywhere if you’re willing to look at the world with curiosity.
Love, Mom
scribblechic 
Ah, yes. I remember years when the workbooks towered. And my grand plans. My second has it much easier. We learn as we go, eh? 🙂
We do, Kay. Time and hindsight give us room to learn and adjust our plans to accommodate new dreams.