Toward the end of school last year, my oldest daughter Kate announced to me, “I don’t want to do anything after school next year.” I’d asked her a couple times if she thought she might want to do another year of her dance class or if she wanted to try something else this year. She’d hemmed and hawed, not giving much of a firm answer until this announcement.
Selfishly, I know that having a child not want to do any extracurricular activities means less chauffeuring for me, so part of me was all for it. But another part thought, “Hey wait, isn’t she supposed to be trying everything out to see what she likes?” There’s also the voice that says, “The competition isn’t just with the boys. If she joins a new sport or activity in fourth grade, she’ll be so behind all those girls who started it much earlier” (This is an unfortunate and unintended but real side effect of us all starting our kids in sports and dance when they’re still in diapers. But that’s a column for another day!).
When I asked her why she didn’t want to do anything in the fall, she answered, “I just want time after school to relax, read and not have to rush around and go-go-go so much.”
Now, a point of explanation here: We had one afternoon of “running around” last year. Both girls did one activity, and they both happened to fall on Mondays, so yes, Mondays were a little chaotic after school. But again, it was only one day.
I totally get where she’s coming from, though. Kate doesn’t like a lot of change. She likes things to be predictable. She doesn’t like to feel rushed and hectic. There will be plenty of times in her young life when she needs to move at a pace quicker than she’d like, make swift transitions and think on her feet (hello, school mornings from 6:30 to 7:30!), but as much as I can let her set her own pace, I want to do just that. I want to give her space to feel unhurried, give her time to come up with her own forms of entertainment and let her imagination take over. That happens best when there’s unscheduled time.
I’ll be honest: this summer has been especially sweet. We’ve all so enjoyed the easier days, the unrushed mornings, the late-evening lightning bug chases in the backyard. It’s hot, and some of the days have felt a couple hours too long, but even still, I’m mourning the loss of these mostly carefree summer days. A return to school means friends and excitement (not to mention a return to writing for me), but it also usually spells out duties, time schedules, homework, activities and yes, a good deal of rushing.
But it also gives us the opportunity — the challenge, even — to slow down, to settle in, to savor. That sounds more like summertime than a plan for the school year, but I’m trying to think like Kate and regulate a forced deceleration (or maybe just an idle speed). So instead of feeling like we’re always flitting from one thing to the next, we make time for … nothing. We leave areas blank, we keep our margins open, we leave empty spaces that can be filled in with imagination.
You can reach me by email at Lauren@LaurenKDenton.com, visit my website, LaurenKDenton.com, or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks, Twitter @LaurenKDenton, or on Facebook. My novels, “The Hideaway” and “Hurricane Season,” are out now and available wherever books are sold.
