Our favorite tunes from our family playlist quietly filled the evening air as we sat and watched the sun set on the desert. We talked about going to the movies with friends, how many times a day is just the right amount for the pool, the road trips we have been wanting to take and all of the other things that make our eyes big and our faces stretched with smiles as we think about the weeks ahead. We also talked about this being the summer that we really master the art of slow living.
Being a parent these days is a constant battle of keeping up. It’s the school events, the sports practices and games, it’s this and it’s that. And I adore all of it. I love chasing after the kids with the next thing they want to do or work toward. Always and forever. Being active and a part of things and busy accomplishing things is something I want them to know.
What I also want them to know? How great a regular, run-of-the-mill Saturday morning can be. The kind where you wake up, grab a bowl of cereal while watching cartoons on the TV, hanging out in your PJ’s and laughing with your siblings in the kitchen. I want them to know how fun playing outside with the neighborhood kids until dark is. I want them to know that camping can be just as big of an adventure right at home in the backyard. I want them to see friends come for dinner and stay until late because the conversation is just that good and no one is in a rush to get back home. I want their eyes to light up at mastering that fort they have been dreaming up for the family room. I want them to crave evening bike rides after dinner, home-made sundaes on the weekends and running through the sprinklers. I want them to play board games, learn Spoons, read books until they fall into a deep afternoon nap and I want to see them chasing after the ice cream truck with their quarters jingling in their pockets. I don’t want them to ever forget family night move nights, snuggled up on the couch altogether.
Yes, the big stuff is so fun, but I want my kids to know the little stuff. The in-between. Those seemingly insignificant things that, only later in life, you realize were the best things. The things filled with the really sweet stuff.
So here’s to summer. And here is to the art of slow living.