I have always made a lot of family fun plans for summer. However, they often get pushed aside by the vast amount of Swim Lessons I end up teaching. Since swim lessons pay for our family vacations, I have always justified the amount of time I am gone as necessary for our family to do fun things without pulling from the budget. It became easier to justify once I stopped paying a babysitter.
It feels like a great compliment when people call and want me to teach lessons to their kids, either because they know me, or are referred to me from others. I must be doing something right, because I quit advertising lessons 10 years ago, and still have more swimmers than I can handle.
When people call me and my lessons are full, I feel so bad about dissapointing them that I end up scheduling more lessons. Pretty soon I am teaching 5 or 6 days a week, 6-8+ hours, and my family gets the shaft. I am so tired by the end of the day that the kids get sandwiches and cereal for meals, and tv for an activity.
After having to cancel 2 family vacations last summer, I decided to cut way back on lessons this year. However, this year people started calling in January to set up lessons.
CRAZY!! By the beginning of April, I was booked. I had to say no to a heck of a lot of people.
(if you were one of them I am really sorry.) This summer, by June 26th, I will be mostly done. July and the first part of August is going to be all about us.
(If you can count scout camp, girls camp, swim team and meets, and Synchro Nationals as family time.) We are going to be schedule -less, and do tons of fun things. No more neglecting my kids for the promoting of public water safety, enjoyment of teaching, and the all mighty dollar.
I love this quote, and it helps me remember what it is all about...
"…but the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three on them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4, and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in a hurry to get on to the next things: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."
{Anna Quindlen}
