The joy of being a little boy in summer
“Mothering Boys”
My mother’s heart has been pulled hither and yon this past school year, between my biggest boy, who spent a semester in D.C. and a summer on Long island, and my other big boys, who are in varying stages of figuring things out with college and jobs, and my little boys, who want very much to be big boys and don’t realize the gift they have of still being kids. Sometimes I look at all my boys in wonderment: these are fantastic young men! Sometimes I look at all my boys with what feels like crippling sadness: where are my babies?!
It’s not always complicated like that, though. One of my favorite things this summer, which has been a balm to my tender heart, is watching my youngest squeeze every bit out of this summertime life. He is a boy with big emotions, and one of the big emotions he’s been showing a lot is JOY. I am sometimes moved to tears to watch him living life right now: there is clearly nothing better in the entire world than being a six-year-old boy in the summertime with six older brothers and lots of cousins and water to swim in and grass to run in and scooters to ride and forts to build and ice cream to eat. He’s able to stay up later, sleep in longer, play more video games, take more trips than he’s ever been able to in his life. I regularly hear big belly laughs coming out of him when he’s playing with (or bothering!) his brothers. His blond hair has gotten blonder, his freckles have multiplied, he has tan lines and bug bite scabs and has lost two teeth. If you were going to make an ad for “little boys,” he would be the perfect model.
While watching him in general is one of my favorite things, one of my specifically favorite things to watch is him swimming. I have absolutely loved watching him swim this summer. After a short freak-out at the beginning of the summer when we realized his swimmies didn’t fit anymore and he was sure he had completely forgotten how to swim and would never be able to enjoy the water (he’s a little dramatic), he was able to quickly regain his skills with the help of his dad and a half hour lesson in the lake, and then he turned into a fish. An actual fish! He swims and swims and swims, underwater and on top, and has mastered every fun thing about swimming, including — as he proudly tells everyone — “diving for a ring at 7 feet deep!” He recently completed the two weeks of swimming lessons we have the little boys do at Skidmore each summer and his instructor wrote on his evaluation form that he is “a beast” in the water and that his comfort level in the water “is a beautiful thing.” It really is! When he jumps into the water from the side of the pool or the dock at the lake, it’s more of a no-holds-barred *launch* — he throws himself into the water with abandon! He does belly flops and cannonballs and pencil dives and scrambles out of the water to do them again and again and again.
Maybe I’ve been so struck by my littlest guy’s uninhibited joy because I’m seeing my older boys starting to realize that adulthood isn’t what we all think it will be when we’re young. I’m so pleased and proud of all that they’re doing and how they’re stepping up and being responsible, but what a bummer to find out that once you start earning money, then you have bills to pay! Once you’re allowed to stay up as late as you want, you can’t because you have to work the next day! Even my middle schoolers are past the “free summer” stage and are grumbling through their summer reading and math review. I think we’re all a little envious of my youngest boy and his zero-responsibility, uninhibitedly joyful summer.
Of course, time keeps marching on. Since it’s August, I’m focusing on buying school supplies and new school shoes, and readying school clothes, backpacks, and lunchboxes. I’m already looking ahead to this time next year when we’ll have a college graduation, a high school graduation, and a middle school graduation, as well as our last First Communion (traditionally done in second grade for Catholic kids). My mind is constantly on the next thing, trying to plan and prepare (and brace myself).
But first—there’s still more summer! I’m planning on as many more days at the water as we can manage, watching my littlest guy and his big brothers and remembering how much I loved these days when I was their ages. I hope the rest of your August goes as swimmingly as I hope ours does!
Kate and her husband have seven sons ages 20, 18, 17, 15, 13, 11, and 6. She can be reached at kmtowne23@gmail.com.