I love summer, honestly I do. I love wearing flip flops, airy dresses and painting my toe nails bright pink. I love how my hair floats in the water when I go swimming, the way my son's head smells of sunscreen when I pull him close and the color of our sun-kissed skin.
But I'm done. I'm officially done with summer.
I'm tired of washing and rewashing our bathing suits and the endless loads of towels. I'm tired of remembering everything that has to be packed in Logan's book bag for his camp trips and begging him to stand still so I can lather him up in sunscreen -- again -- while managing not to get it in his eyes, nose or mouth. I'm tired of feeling the sand that we always seem to bring back from the beach grate against my feet on the tile floor. And I hate how much sweat pours down my face and into my eyes when I go for even the shortest run.
I'm ready to be comfortable in my favorite jeans, big sweaters and warm boots. Ready to hear the crunch of leaves under my feet when we take our walk around the block after dinner and have a good hair day, where my hair actually stays straight when I straighten it. And to open the windows wide so the crisp air can blow through the house and play with my curtains. I'm ready for gooey apple pies and pumpkin picking, and the deep, robust colors of fall. My mouth waters at the mere thought of my favorite chili recipe, topped with cheese and sour cream. I can't wait to have the smell filling the house as it simmers all day long in the crock-pot.
But then, of course, I read or hear about someone's recent trip to the beach or pool. And I remember how Logan loves to spend hours in the water and begs for just one, no three, no five more minutes of swimming before we head home. I think about how much I love the guilt-free, no-cooking-required dinners, like salads and tuna fish that we eat on the nights when it is too hot to cook. (In other words, all of them.) And I relish the countless unplanned, lazy mornings we spend in our pajamas with nowhere in particular to rush off to, just the pool or beach when we are ready to start the day.
And I think about how there are only a few more weeks left before school starts and summer ends and we are back to earlier bed times, earlier mornings and no more lazy days by the pool. I think about how I will miss my flip flops when I get tired of lugging my feet in heavy boots, how I will be cursing about shoveling when the weatherman predicts the second snowfall, and how red my nose gets at the first gust of cold wind. I know I will miss this fleeting season all too quickly, and then have to wait another eight or nine months to get it back.
So for now, I'm going to try not to rush the seasons, because they already fly by fast enough. I'm going to hold off on thoughts of my delicious chili, building a fire and bouquets of sharpened pencils. Instead, today I'm going to take my son outside to run through the sprinkler, bask in the summer sun, drink another glass of lemonade and finally make the loaf of zucchini bread that I have been craving. I'll soak up every last bit of summer before it slips away.