I spent the afternoon at the beach yesterday with my children, which we do as often as possible this summer. We’ll pack lunch or dinner and have a picnic to stay longer. We bring the necessities–swimsuits, sunscreen, snacks, an umbrella, monster trucks–and stay half the day. I have spent more time at the beach this summer than I have over the last few years combined.
I have given up trying to work on the days when I am alone with the children. Why did I ever think that would be possible at all? Housework, too, is a low priority. Trying to accomplish less makes the work of parenting feel more enjoyable, so I try to find ways for us all to have some fun together. Somedays that means we are home all day, tending to the garden or picking up sticks that fell from the trees in the yard, or driving monster trucks on every available surface. On other days it means we pack the car for the day and run errands that end at the beach.
A narrative permeates our culture that our work is more valuable than our play. Those of us who work in creative fields fight so hard for our creative pursuits to be valued in a way that can help pay the bills, and as soon as it does, it feels like any enjoyment of the craft needs to be toned down to be taken seriously. Maybe money being involved innately makes it less fun. Perhaps our ideas about money make it impossible for money to feel fun. Could money be fun? Could we allow ourselves to have fun, even when at work?
But money isn’t the only force that takes the fun out of things because I also see the messaging that parenting, explicitly mothering, is anything but fun. Mothering is certainly unpaid work, but it sometimes feels like we’re trying so hard to prove the labor involved that we forget the pure magic of spending time with children. The fun to be had, the unfettered play. This is not to say that it is easy to be a parent or that there aren’t days when we all need a break–all of this is true. It should be easier to both care for children and pay the bills than it is currently. But somewhere in recent years, the overwhelming narrative around mothering is that it is miserable. The expectation has become that moms lose themselves completely.
And while there certainly is a loss of sleep, a loss of free time, a loss of friends even, given the right support (the tricky part) and relieving myself of the wrong expectations, I can still be me–perhaps even more fully–most days.
So here we are on a Monday afternoon at the beach, just me and my four-month-old and almost-four-year-old. It feels like an act of resistance to do what I love and bring the kids along. Sure, it’s more work than if I were there alone, but I’m never alone these days, so why not just be together at the beach?
The baby takes a little longer to nap on the beach; she wants to be held as she falls asleep and prefers if I do it while standing in the waves. I oblige gladly. But once she falls asleep and I lay her down, the sound of the Lake crashing on the rocks keeps her sleeping while Daniel and I play monster trucks and, later, paint with watercolors.
I brought the paints to try a fun project–collage pieces to accompany some of my poems. It is way out of my wheelhouse. I am a writer, not an artist, I tell myself repeatedly, feeling like a fraud for even trying. I consider showing these pieces in public at an upcoming event and wonder if people will think I am trying too hard, that I am not talented enough, and that the pieces are trash. But I pull my supplies out anyway, and with the wind blowing everything around, I begin.
Daniel sits down next to me and asks to paint. He has no hesitation as he chooses his colors, beginning to paint immediately. With every color he introduces, he exclaims joyfully, asking for my attention; mama, look at this color! He seems to paint with no objective, and then, halfway through, a scene takes shape. He tells me what he is painting, and I can see it. The hill, the tunnel, the bridge. He is enchanted with his work, playfully adding more color and having so much fun with his art. And I do not even hesitate to consider it such.
Meanwhile, I am in my head, wondering why I even bother trying something new, wondering what makes something good and how technical I need to be. I am sewing fabric to watercolor paper as sand blows across my lap and feeling a little frustrated with myself for trying to hand stitch. Do the imperfections make it better or worse? Who is the judge? I know my little project is “folk art,” if art at all, and then I wonder why that feels inferior in my head.
In the same way, being a stay-at-home parent is seen as inferior to a working parent in our society. The hierarchies of art and caretaking. Of paid and unpaid work. Why isn’t it all seen as valuable? Isn’t caring for others more important than anything else? And don’t we create art to foster our bonds? I tell myself that the point of art is to connect, create something aesthetically pleasing, and say something about what it means to be human. My lack of training doesn’t matter if someone relates to the work.
And so, I try to play. I try to adopt the posture of my not-yet-four-year-old creating simply to create. I try to have fun with my art, like I let myself have fun with being a mother. In doing so, I tap into something that feels good about being human. The waves crash on the beach, and the baby sleeps between us while we paint, and yet again, my son is my teacher.
Event this Thursday in Suttons Bay!
Join me this Thursday, August 24 in Suttons Bay from 5-8pm for the release of nykamping’s LAKE LETTERS collection. Inspired by words from my book, “Lake Letters”, this collection features pre-loved textiles and handmade designs. I’m so honored to be a part of this project, and hope to see some of you at the release. We’ll be swimming after! If you aren’t local, you can shop the collection online starting Friday.
Swim Club - final swim this week
The schedule for swim club has changed a bit; please note that the Labor Day weekend date is canceled. That means this Thursday is the last scheduled swim club of the summer! All are welcome, even if you don’t want to get in the water.
This week’s swim club is in the evening in Suttons Bay! We’ll be at the nykamping shop on Adams Street, just off St Joseph Street from 5-8pm for the release of the LAKE LETTERS clothing collection (details above). When the release ends, we’ll walk down to Suttons Bay public beach for a dip! Join us at 8pm at the beach or beforehand for the release!
Thursday, August 24 at 8:00pm in Suttons Bay Sunday, September 3 at 8am
My book “Lake Letters” is back in stock!
My self-published collection of poetry and essays is available again in the online shop. The perfect companion to summer swims or gift for the lake lovers in your life. More than 1200 copies have been sold, which amazes me.
Due to rising costs, the price of the book will move to $30 next week, so if you’ve considered purchasing, I recommend doing so this week while it’s still $25! Thank you as always for your support and for reading my words.
Published: Dunes Review, Summer 2023
I am excited to share that my essay “The Garden” was published in the most recent issue of Dunes Review! This northern Michigan literary publication features writers from around the world, and it is an honor to be a part of. The release event for the issue is this Saturday, August 26 from 4-6pm in The Alluvion at Commongrounds in Traverse City.
Thank you for reading and subscribing! I hope to see some of you Thursday night, and I hope you’re able to PLAY a bit this week.
Cheers,
Mae
Lovely read, Mae. There are so many threads connecting creating and parenting! Parenting itself is an art and creative act - always inspired by how you do both and weave them together ✨