The Summer That Wasn’t

Today was the first day of school, so for all intents and purposes, summer is over (despite what the calendar says). I, for one, am happy because this summer sucked big time. Sure, there were a few fun days here and there — a long weekend at the Shore to celebrate my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary, a food tour around Philly and a quick jaunt up to Canada to see Niagara Falls and Toronto — but overall, it was the pits.

According to my social media feeds, everyone I know spent their entire summer happily playing at the beach, frolicking by a lake or traipsing through Europe. Seriously, I think half the people I know went to Greece or Italy last month. Was there a huge sale on flights that I missed?! But not us. Nope. No big expeditions for the Tarrs this summer — unless you consider lacrosse tournaments and a hospital stay adventures. Yes, there were those quick trips I mentioned before, but it sounds more dramatic if I leave those out for now, so forget I said anything.

I know, I know … We didn’t go on a grand vacation … Boo-hoo. Cry me a river, right? First world problems! Well, at the risk of sounding like a complete a**hole, I’m standing by my statement. This summer sucked, in large part because I learned a harsh truth about myself that I will sheepishly admit if you bear with me and promise not to judge.

The first half of the summer felt like an extension of the school year, minus the homework. Work was hectic and our calendar was packed. Lacrosse consumed our every waking (non-working) moment, with far away practices and out-of-town tournaments, camps and showcase events that lasted anywhere from two days to two weeks. From a lacrosse standpoint, it was a successful run, especially for my oldest, but the heat and humidity were unbearable. My feet swelled, the boys smelled and have you ever had to use a porta-potty in near 100-degree weather for days and weeks on end? Two words: Not pleasant.

The second half the summer was less fun — and completely unplanned. First, our car was vandalized. Next, our A/C broke (during a heat wave, of course). And then during the last lacrosse game of the summer, my fifteen-year-old was injured and needed immediate surgery. That was the middle of July. Since then, the Tarrs have been at home, inside, virtually every day for the past six weeks. Me, playing 24/7 caregiver (in between writing jobs); My husband, working long hours; And my sons (both the injured and uninjured), binge-watching Netflix and playing Fortnite or Madden 19. I blame the monotony and lack of vitamin D on my near-hourly meltdowns and temporary insanity (read about it here).

The two mini-vacations we were able to enjoy totaled nine days. Not exactly a month on the Riviera, but better than nothing. The beach holiday was nice — great weather, well-kept house and lots of cousins/grandparents time — but it was not without its issues. The last-minute Canada trip was again nice — swanky hotel room, beautiful views, even a lunch date by the water with my hubby sans kids (who at a Blue Jays game; Thanks, Ryan and Laurie!) — but not without its issues, either. I know I should count my blessings and focus only on the positives (e.g., a successful surgery, repairable car damage, extended family time, etc.), but I can’t do that without also thinking of the big negative that overshadowed it all.

It’s been gnawing at me for weeks, so here it is. The hard truth. My hard truth. I’m embarrassed to admit this aloud, let alone in writing, because doing so makes me feel vulnerable and exposed. But here it goes … I don’t vacation well. At least not with others. I have too many rules, too many expectations, too many issues that get in the way. My food intolerances create problems. My autoimmune disease creates problems. My anxiety creates problems. I create problems. All the so-called issues that made these two fun trips not fun were because of me. My rules, my expectations, my issues. I know I’m to blame and it makes me sad and ashamed.

I haven’t really discussed my autoimmune disease in this blog, for a variety of reasons, but it does explain a few aspects of my personality and behavior. Food intolerances, neuropathy, fatigue, osteoporosis, hair loss, weight gain, brain fog and moodiness are just a few fun side effects. Early menopause, too. (I wrote a post about that one awhile back. Check it out here.) But my autoimmune isn’t the only reason I have issues. Some of it is just how I am.

As an introvert, I need daily solitude to recharge and rejuvenate, but family vacations do not offer seclusion. We are together ALL THE TIME. There’s no escape, no privacy and for someone like me, too much family togetherness is just too much. I love my family, but I need alone time to just BE. Without it, my anxiety grows, my mood suffers and my temper quickens … It’s not good for anyone.

I also thrive on continuity, routine and control. As fun as it is to explore new places, I like my morning practice. I workout, have a protein shake and start the day with a positive mantra and game plan. On vacation, I still do that, but it takes planning and sacrifice and makes me feel uptight rather than calm. My gym, my food, my space … It all keeps me sane and grounded. Too many days without and I feel unsettled.

But the big issue is living in the moment. As the family planner, I feel pressure to make sure that everyone is having fun and that everyone is getting to do what they want to do. I try to cram too much in and it becomes stressful rather than enjoyable. I struggle with just going with the flow. I struggle with having no plan and doing things on the fly. Even that spur-of-the-moment trip to Canada was discussed and planned for nearly a week in advance; It’s not like we just woke up, decided to go and went! I wish I could relax and be in the moment more. I’m working on it and have gotten good at being more in-tune and mellow when I’m alone (I kinda rock at the self-care stuff), but when I’m with others, the mother/planner/organizer/people-pleaser in me takes over. I stress, obsess and over-do. Then I become resentful. And mean. Really mean.

So to my family, I apologize for the summer that wasn’t. I apologize for making a bad situation worse and more so for making a good situation bad. Some situations were out of my control, but at least our two trips could have been more enjoyable if it wasn’t for my attitude, outlook and rules. Next year, I promise to do better.

– LJDT