Toddler Tourist by Hillary Handy

Reflections of summer in Simcoe North

When I think about this summer, I am very grateful. I am privileged to be able to work my schedule to have lots of time to spend with my children, doing loads of adventures across land and sea. Sometimes, the adventures were duds. A swing and a miss. Some days there was more sibling rivalry and whining than I could handle. Sometimes, I laughed so hard I cried. Indoor days when the heat was unbearable. Swimsuits and sandcastles on other days. A mixed bag of all the emotions and all the types of summer days.

I received a message from one of my childhood best friends during July. She told me that summer was always a time of melancholy for her. As a child, she would be at home most days alone or watching her sister, bored and indoors while other neighborhood kids were off to the cottage or summer camp. She would wait eagerly for her mom to return home from work with the hope that maybe they would get to go out to the grocery store as a special outing. To be clear, this is not a commentary on working parents… we are all working, whether in the home or outside of it and our children can’t monopolize our full day or full calendar. It was just part of her story to be at home.

My story was different. My parents were the directors of a children’s summer camp. So naturally, the whole family tagged along and headed north. While it was a wild time with long days, it was an incredible childhood that I fondly look back on! One special memory of my friend’s that she would categorize as ‘happy’ was when she came along with me to the summer camp where we always went. Whereas I always viewed my calendar July to July, she dreamed of September, and the stability and predictability scheduling can bring. I felt sad that summers were sad for her, but glad that summer camp brought her joy for at least a season or two.

With that in the forefront of my mind, I tried (maybe too hard) to let this summer be fun and magical for my own children. Perhaps there was a sense of guilt with my return to post-secondary education and a zany year, so I was over-compensating with attempts at summer bliss. The kids came to work with me at that same summer camp, tagging along on video shoots while getting to swim, play and frolic. Their days were high octane and loads of fun, but eventually they reached their limit. I overprogrammed them for four weeks. They were over-stimulated and under-slept. It took over a week to reprogram them from Camp mode back into civilization. It was a lot…for all of us! Turns out, I’m not as young as I once was. Fun, but busy.

Then we went camping. Back country, crown land camping on an island on Georgian Bay, where I had previously seen a rattlesnake. This trip, no rattlesnakes but a million other types…so that’s fun. The lack of schedule was refreshing and the exploration of nature was amazing. The fresh air was helpful in the reset. But the sleep was still lacking, so our delirium persisted.

Back in the homeland, the days oscillated between TV binging and more sibling fighting with some day trips around the region. Still trying to find the balance between calm and chaos.

While swimming, my husband found two golf balls. Excited, the kids fished around to see if there were anymore. We found 10 or so. We then started getting reallllly into it. The goggles came out. The floaty tube was a mobile bucket, collecting all our treasures. We were so waterlogged diving down to rescue golf balls, but it was a rescue mission. To save the balls and our waterfront, but also to save the mixed up, rage-y, unhinged summer day. 358 golf balls later we felt better about cleaning up the waterfront and also felt better and reunited as a family. I could not have planned that outcome if I tried. We didn’t plan to go deep sea diving, but this probably will become a fantastic and unique memory of the summer, when we found over 300 golf balls in the lake! Such a simple event. No frills, no drama. It was awesome! 

I am trying to reminisce on this summer with a grateful heart. How lucky am I that I have this gift of time to be with my little ones. It truly is a blessing and privilege for them to not have to wait until after I come home from work to maybe, just maybe leave the house on an errand run. I am trying to look back on the chaos of this summer and this season with rose-coloured lenses because while in the thick of the whining, the fighting, the stress and the very heavy feeling of exhaustion, I know I am blessed. I want the time I do have to be precious and intentional. I don’t want sibling drama every day. I want experiences and magic, coupled with rest and relaxation. I don’t think I nailed it this year, if I’m being honest, but I am hopeful there are some happy summer memories thrown in the mix my kids will cherish. 

I probably will always view my calendar year from summer to summer and probably overdo it on the social and adventure piece, but I think I may rethink how I do summer next year. There has to be somewhere in between the melancholy and the high octane where children’s core memories will live in eternal sunshine and moms won’t lose their minds trying not just to survive, but thrive. Let’s see if we can find that balance in 2026.