Summers Then vs. Now: From Lazy to Logistics

Ahhh, summer. Back in the day, it was pure freedom, being set free from the strict rules and regulations of a boarding school institution, as if prisoners escaping into a world of sun, travel, and minimal rules. As soon as we put our pens down after the last exam and packed up our gigantic school trunks to go home, I was giddy with excitement for weeks spent devouring cheesy romance novels (Jilly Cooper & Jackie Collins...nothing better!), while marinating in baby oil under the sun (which now, in hindsight, was a serious skincare faux-pas).

OK, I was clearly not yet in my teenage years here but I started the sun worshiping early in my childhood, thanks Mum!

I’d spend a large portion of my summer at my grandmother's house in the South of France, where her garden looked like it belonged in a Jane Austen adaptation, or maybe even The Secret Garden. The smell of hydrangeas, jasmine, lavender, and lemons was the scent of an escape into a perfect, luscious world. The fig trees were dripping with ripe figs that we devoured with endless cheese and saucisson from the market. Peaches so juicy they dripped down your chin, melons that actually tasted like melon (not the sad, overpriced water balloons we get now), and apricots that I could not get enough of, and still dream of.

I found this photo in my piles and I could literally smell the freshly picked lavender from the garden.

We’d wander the bustling French markets like tourists lost in paradise, stalls overflowing with tablecloths, baskets, soaps, honey (which, I have yet to taste better), olives, meats, and cheeses. I would help myself to free samples, especially at the cheese shop (the runnier and smellier the cheese, the more delicious.) After stuffing our baskets with market gold, we’d take a break at a café for an Orangina, paired with a chocolate croissant, perfectly warm, fresh from the oven. Maybe, if we felt energetic, we’d play a game of petanque (bocce ball for my US friends), with the locals who were never in any rush to go anywhere or do anything. We had no concept of day or time, which I only appreciate now, was an incredible luxury.

Summer was an escape from rules, school, and any obligation more pressing than deciding between the white or orange peaches at the market, or whether I’d gotten an equal amount of sun exposure on my front and back. By the end of the summer, I returned to school with that perfect mix of sun-kissed glow and fromage-induced smugness, convinced that life couldn’t get any more fabulous (even if my tan lines were uneven and my clothes barely fit after all the cheese and bread intake).

Clearly, I loved all the World during this time….🙄 🤣

Fast forward 35+ years, and well, summer’s vibe as a mum has changed.

Now, the last day of school feels less like a liberation chapter and more like a starting pistol for a marathon I am not ready for and definitely don’t have the right attitude for. Gone are the days of mindless lounging with trashy novels; enter the logistical nightmare of juggling camps, playdates, and enrichment classes (because heaven forbid their brains take a vacation). I will soon be locked in an endless tug-of-war with screens and teenage moods. “Read a book!” I will shout into the void. “Practice your guitar!” I will plead as they scroll TikTok/YouTube like it’s a full-time job. "Mom (sadly they say Mom, not my prefered Mum), I need a break....it's Summer!" as if that is carte-blanche to do absolutely diddly-squat-nothing. I’m also the default Uber driver, zipping them to and from activities and babysitting gigs, only to hear the dreaded “Can we stop at Starbucks?” (No. Still no.)

Sure, I don’t have to pack school lunches for two months (small win), but summer is now less about freedom and more about survival. Gone is the baby oil, replaced with overpriced sunscreen that I buy in bulk during Walgreens specials, and a large, floppy mum-style sunhat, the kind that says 'I’ve given up on chic and embraced sun safety,' to prevent new members of my face-sun-mark-family. And work? Of course, it continues. Meetings, deadlines, and the grim realization that the world doesn’t actually pause for two months of sun-soaked, gluttonous relaxation.

While I miss those carefree French summers of Orangina and petanque, I do try to remind myself that one day, these summers will be my kids' nostalgia. Thirty-five years from now, when they’re parents themselves (and I’m likely just a framed photo on the mantle because, let's face it, no one really wants an 85-year-old hobbling down the beach complaining of a bad hip-back-leg), they’ll tell their own kids about the summers of their youth. The late mornings, the unfiltered time, the way I always put too much sunscreen on them and got it in their eyes, the forced 'family hikes & picnics' with the dog, camping weekends, surfing & fun on the beach, BBQs & s’mores, the endless gaming marathons, and maybe even those Starbucks and boba stops I sometimes say yes to. And who knows? They might even look back at their summers through rose-tinted sunglasses, completely blanking on the eye rolls and whining over dishwasher duty, and spin some wildly romantic tale about how Mom made them read actual physical books and practice the guitar, and how they were so grateful that I helped them manage their screen time, since they clearly didn't have the maturity and strength to control their own screen addiction. Suddenly, it’ll become some charming tale of “structure and freedom,” like I was a parenting goddess instead of a sleep-deprived crazy lunatic, bribing them with boba. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll recognize that, in my gloriously imperfect, SPF-slathered way, I was just trying to pass on a sliver of the magic I once knew.

A girl can dream...and summer days are great for dreaming!

What were your summer vibes growing up? Drop your best (or most ridiculous) summer memories in the comments, I promise not to judge... much. Also, I’ve just ordered myself a new Kindle (apparently you can trade in your crusty old one, who knew?). I’m seriously tempted to relive my youth with a cheeky download of Riders or Rivals by Jilly Cooper. Any other summer reads that pair well with SPF 50, coffee, and maybe a glass or two of rose?

Yep, me in my dreams, reading Jilly Cooper with a cold glass of rose…perfection!

P.S. After reading this post, a great friend just sent me this video which I had to share here….clearly I am not alone!

@cbcgemoffice jobs typically don't have summer vacation 🫠 (📺: Baroness von Sketch Show) #baronessvonsketch #bvss

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