Summer in our home began with a bang. Literally. I was helping my husband put a piece of dock in the water by our lake camp when I overstepped the end of the dock and plunged into the water.
Summer in our home began with a bang. Literally. I was helping my husband put a piece of dock in the water by our lake camp when I overstepped the end of the dock and plunged into the water. On the way dawn, I impaled my backside on a metal bracket. I passed out climbing out of the water and when I awoke, I was rattling around in the back of my car, which felt like it was going 100 mph to the hospital. My husband was driving and talking on the phone at the same time. Had I been in my right mind, I would have been scared to death.
The ensuing three weeks felt like six. Not just for me, but for our nineteen year-old son. He had just returned for the summer after finishing his freshman year of college, ready for a fun-packed few months. What he got was three weeks carrying his Mom from the bed to the couch and back again, grocery shopping for the family and changing bandages on my backside. (What nineteen year old wants to do this, let alone see his mother’s backside?) As much as I would like to say that he did so without complaining, I can’t. I heard a few moans and saw him roll his eyes on more than one occasion. No frank complaints, but I could see them.
Ironically, two weeks before my accident, I sat in The Today Showstudio chatting with Meredith Viera about summer and stress. Many mothers dread summer because we worry about what to do with our kids. We want them to eat blue popsicles, have watermelon fights and be transformed by spiritual experiences at camp. When they return to school in the fall, we want them plump with satisfaction about their fresh summer experiences. The problem is, summer doesn’t often bring satisfaction for kids and mothers are left feeling guilty and inferior. So, I bluntly told Meredith that during the summer we should teach our kids how to be bored. Not exactly what she expected to hear.