Any Minute Now!
I used to love summer. Now I have kids.
So here’s something fun. I’ve started to write for a local publication, the Monterey Bay Parent, and this story appeared in their recent August 2025 issue. In addition to magazines and online guides, they also put on great events in the area. Now, my kids can be embarrassed of me online and in print!
It wasn’t too long ago for me that the word summer conjured images of beach days, late sundowns on the ball field, and slow motion memories of stress-free youth. I counted down the days to freedom and fun, untied by homework and Sunday scaries. What summer has become for me now, though, is something far more frightful.
Keeping my children occupied for 100,000 minutes.
Bear with me, here. For many kids, summer runs a little more than two months from final school bell to first-day jitters. Add it all up, and these little snack attackers will need to occupy around 1,500 hours of summer . . . stuff. Run through the sprinkler, watch a squirrel eat an acorn, count the ants attacking a sweating popsicle, whatever. I often tell my daughters that life has some dull moments, too; some moments where you have nothing to do and loads of time to do it. [Cue eye roll.] “But, I’m boooooooored.”
Nice to meet you, Bored. I’m Dad, and I’m also apparently your cruise activities director for the next 99,997 minutes.
Just kidding. We bring in the expert for this convoluted task: Mom. Quite literally, we have a colossal calendar covering one of our hallway walls featuring customizable squares for each day of the year. Over the top? Maybe a little too extra? For sure. But try keeping track of three kids, camps, play dates, vacations, and appointments—not to mention the standard fare of full-time jobs, square meals, minimal sleep requirements, and general sanity.
Fortunately, living in Monterey County provides no shortage of pristine weather for outdoor activities, camps, and clinics from astronauts to zoologists, and a community designed for fun and exploration. And it doesn’t hurt that us parents also get treated to a world-class selection of stunning wine tasting rooms, lively microbreweries, and Ad Astra bread at the ready.
Cue the montage! Kids in and out of the clown car, snacks going into the backpack, wet clothes and sticky wrappers coming out. What were once the low-key, laid back days of an endless summer have become frenetic blurs of dropoffs, pickups, and spotnaps (I’ve coined this phrase to represent the seven-minute snoozes snuck in parking spaces while waiting for the kids). Parents pass like train conductors, tipping our caps to the endless grind. We exchange few words and barely know first names, but there’s an innate camaraderie and connection between all moms and dads doing what it takes to fill those monumental minutes. We’re human crusaders, always doing our best to find healthy snacks, limit screen time, and care for scraped knees—all while maintaining the impossible expectations of modern parenting.
But, shhhhh . . . I have a secret. I’ve never been so excited for the first day of school in my life. Don’t get me wrong—I love my kids, and these moments are critical to developing their brains, physical skills, and independence. Even bouts of boredom, research widely suggests, can help fuel creativity and problem-solving. But summer, too, has an expiration date, and I can’t cross off those days on the calendar fast enough. Each square tallies another 1,440 minutes of little wins to keep the finish line in focus. Grinch, Scrooge, Buzzkill, call me what you will. But this is my truth. And I’ve already seen every episode of Bluey at least three times.
Summers used to symbolize the transition from one grade to the next, celebrating life’s milestones one sun-soaked Polaroid at a time. As a dad of three young girls, the season has become one of systemized survival, measured by smiles and sunburns. We become chauffeurs and bellhops, drill sergeants and hall monitors, advocates and best friends. Maybe I’m being a bit dramatic. Maybe it’s summers like these that help me practice patience, flexibility, and serenity within the storm we call life. Or maybe two-plus months of idle downtime for children is a challenge for even the greatest of superheroes (like my wife).
Either way, the sunset of summer is upon us. Kids around Monterey County are prepping for class, teachers are sharpening their pencils, and parents like me are counting down the minutes until we’re back to school. All 100,000 of them.