I read something recently that really resonated: every summer has a story.
Let me explain. I’m a mom to two active tweens. I’m parenting in that sweet spot of increasing independence, but they aren’t yet completely self-sufficient. I’m no longer packing a diaper bag, but I’m not agonizing over teen drivers…yet. And, at least for the time being, they still want to hang out with us!
I am, however, acutely aware of how fleeting time is. Like you, I’ve read the advice about enjoying the 18 summers I have with them at home. Sometimes I feel a tightness in my chest when I sit down and really think about how close I am to that 18th summer. How is it possible that this time next year I’ll have (insert gasp) a teenager?!?!
So that sentiment—every summer has a story—hit me. I thought about the last decade or so of summers with my kids. I remembered the swimming lessons, playdates with our mommy and me group, and family cookouts. I recalled family vacations, countless trips to the beach, and watching them play in the sand. Memories of trying to apply sunscreen to wriggly, chubby toddlers flashed in my mind as I stared at their now long, lanky frames scouring the kitchen for their next snack.
As they’ve gotten older, our summers have centered around their schedules in different ways. Coordinating camps and family vacations around their sports schedules has earned me gold medals in the mental gymnastics of parenting tweens.
This summer, our family’s story centered on our love of baseball.
When our son’s baseball team decided to play a tournament in Cooperstown, New York, we extended the trip. We opted for a two-week family road trip that included all things baseball.
We made the ten-hour trek to see him and his teammates play a weeklong tournament in the mecca of their sport. We visited the National Baseball Hall of Fame with teammates and their families. It was a rite of passage for baseball-loving tweens.
Once their tournament was over, we continued to Cape Cod, Massachusetts. The prestigious Cape Cod Baseball League showcases the best college talent in the game. My husband played there for two summers in college, so we got to show the kids the field where he played and introduce them to former coaches and friends we had not seen in years. We saw his former team play, and it was a great reminder of how important the game of baseball has been to our family. Seeing our kids play catch on a field Dad played on years ago was pretty special.
We concluded our family road trip with a game at Yankee Stadium. It was the first time our kids saw the Yankees play in person. As huge fans of the game, we secured passes to see the big leaguers take batting practice. It was a sellout crowd, and there were fireworks after the game. I’m not sure who was more in awe, us or the kids.
On each leg of the trip, I earnestly tried to be in the moment. I wanted to memorize their reactions. I wanted to note what impressed them. I wanted to experience the trip from their perspectives. Mostly, I wanted to enjoy the time together.
I let go of managing the logistics (mostly!) and simply enjoyed being in the moment with them. Because every summer has a story, and I want to be sure I remember this one. My hope is they will look back on our summer of baseball and remember how fun it was. How we spent two weeks together, road tripping through several states, enjoying the big moments and laughing through seemingly small ones. We walked down memory lane and showed the kids places that were important to us before they were born. And we got to experience an epic family road trip in the process.
Baseball is a huge part of our family’s story, both this summer and hopefully for years to come. And this summer, time together enjoying baseball was the story.
Every summer has a story. We just have to slow down and enjoy it.
by Rachel Gnagy 
