It could have been the looming wildfire smoke in the distance or maybe it was just the actual buzzkill of the Vogue podcast and editor Chloe Malle in my ear trying to tell me that summer was over. But either way this moment got me fired up. I walked home faster, as if to not waste another moment of this “almost over” summer.
I walked past a house with multiple deer resting in the yard, unbothered, completely unaware that summer was ending. We were in Sisters, a small picturesque western outpost near Bend, Oregon that has become a favorite Summer family tradition. We roll into town every August when we drop Mario at his nearby sleep-away camp. My aunt’s empty house in the woods, Felix signed up that morning for a week-long parks and rec day camp, Mike on a Zoom in the back bedroom. I was out getting some movement and me time in one of my favorite towns and someone was already trying to end it.
I got back, rinsed off and told Mike we should head into town for lunch. A little treat, a small act of resistance, a reminder that we were very much still in summer, OK? I sat with the annoyance for a couple of days and then posted a note to Substack saying I was allergic to the “summer is almost over” discourse. It got a reaction.
(A note before I continue: I know summer is not universally beloved. Wildfires, 100+ degree temps, humidity and storms. For many people the end of summer cannot come soon enough and that is completely valid. I am writing from my own slice of life in the Pacific Northwest where I am simply not ready to let go of the warm days and long evenings. Carry on.)
While I L-O-V-E Summer I must acknowledge that it is also really hard as a parent. You make the decision to spend lotsa dollars to put your kids in camps all summer, or if you are lucky you can send them to grandma camp or tap in a high schooler to help out or maybe just accept that you are going to take charge and manage it all yourself. If you work outside the house then you feel the pressure to steal away a few hours weeknights so you can do something ‘fun’ with your kids. Take them to a pool, visit the fair, enjoy all this magic and make it all memorable just like the online well intentioned propaganda wants us to. I feel every bit of this. For us, our kids are in some sort of camp or care all summer 4-5 days a week which allows Mike and I to keep our same schedule. We are grateful for this. But still I feel the pressure to make things memorable. So I try to make room for special things after dinner. We go get ice cream or visit all the skate parks on weeknights or do sleepovers and movie nights with cousins on weekends.
Making all the magic is hard. Mom magic especially. Typically it is reserved for holidays or birthdays. Lucky for me, Felix’s birthday is July 5th. Which is its own kind of mid summer chaos. This year, Mike was traveling for a shoot and our family had a big gathering for the 4th so I actually have yet to throw him a party. He found a box cake mix in the pantry last weekend and brought it to me stunned saying ‘MOM! Look my cake you forgot to make it for my party and you forgot to have my party’, cue the mom guilt.
When he said it it stung and was adorable at the same time. Just a few days before he caught me saying in conversation that ‘having a kid with a birthday july 5th was not great’ he perked up and said to me ‘No Mom, its not bad. It goes Halloween, Christmas, Fourth of July and then my birthday. I get presents’. It was a reminder that the joy of a birthday is so special to a little kid. I gave him a great birthday morning with decor and gifts and surprises and we actually hosted family that day for a carne asada and to watch the Mexico WC game. My mom made him cupcakes even but we didn’t technically call it a birthday since Mike wanted to be here when we celebrated... we still need to do that. Cue the mom guilt again.
As if summer wasn't hard enough, this year we were also told we need to be delivering a 90s summer. Screen free, unstructured, nostalgic. As if 2026 wasn't a full thirty years away from that. And the cool girl summer lists. What the cool girls are wearing this summer, where the cool girls are going this summer, what the cool girls are eating this summer. I am 42. I don't know if I am technically supposed to be keeping track of any of this but it finds me anyway. A great reminder that being in your 40s has its privileges. I can just ignore it and create my own reality.
So in recent years I have drawn a line in the sand. Summer is not over until the fall equinox, September 22nd to be exact. Not a day before.
But more than that, summer is actually just a state of mind. The equinox is my hard line but the mindset is the real thing I am protecting. The looseness, the spontaneity, the alfresco meals and the walk to ice cream after dinner. None of that requires a specific date on the calendar. It just requires a decision to hold onto it a little longer. I know, I know, easy for me to say when I jump to Mexico for an endless summer.
Even without a departure to Mexico, it has helped that I reframe the start of the school year as more or less just another camp, the first few weeks of school are just ‘end of summer’ camp. We can still rebel a little, be a little feral but grateful for the structure and organization during the day that the school year brings.
For us school doesn't really start until we return to Mexico the first week of October this year. More on how we manage school in two countries here. But regardless I am not ready to say goodbye to eating alfresco, the looseness and spontaneity of a picnic in the park with neighbors, or a walk to ice cream after dinner.
When I posted that note earlier this month my new substack buddy Gabby Llewellyn commented:
I have not stopped thinking about it since. The kids going back is not the end of summer. It is the beginning of yours. Quieter mornings, your own schedule, the version of summer that belongs entirely to you. I am already planning an outdoor movie night for my girlfriends in September. Snacks, chilled wine on the deck, lawn chairs in the yard. If you are a Portland reader you are invited.
As we transition, a few small things that make the end of summer feel like liberation rather than logistics. Do hot lunch. A full three quarters of the year I don't pack, plan, wash lunchboxes or lament uneaten food. One less decision every single morning for months at a time. If you are the one filling out school forms, write your partner's name and number first. Schools call whoever is listed first and since moms are usually the ones holding the pen we default to ourselves out of habit not decision. This isn't a gotcha, it's just a small opportunity to practice what so many of us already believe about sharing the load. One tiny flip means your partner gets the call for emergencies, volunteer opportunities and lice outbreaks even though they never touched the form. And lastly, if getting out the door is a battle, try keeping a second set of toothbrushes downstairs so kids can brush after breakfast without disappearing into an upstairs distraction vortex. Small things. But they add up to a morning that feels like yours.
Mom summer is real. It is quieter, slower and belongs entirely to you. To my friends without kids you have zero excuses, live it up! We have until September 22nd.
Act accordingly.
xx LL
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