Summer-Haters Anonymous

Summer seems to linger longer than usual, stretching on for an extra month. After Independence Day, filled with its own delights, there's a relentless heat that persists until Labor Day arrives. This is when I start to long for the autumn months. It's not just me; the grand, semi-malevolent force behind American consumption feels the same.

By mid-August, grocery stores begin to stock their shelves with fall-themed items—pumpkin-flavored Pop-Tarts, cinnamon-flavored cereal, and pumpkin-spiced cinnamon rolls in cylindrical cardboard packaging. As I wander through these aisles, I can't help but feel a sense of longing for the cooler season. I catch glimpses of candy corn, gazing wistfully at the sweet treats as the cool air of the supermarket soothes my sun-baked skin.

The wait for September to arrive feels agonizing. This summer has been particularly scorching, worse than most years. Heat waves claimed the lives of at least 14,000 people in Europe; parts of France experienced temperatures soaring to 110 degrees in June. Wildfires ravaged North America, burning over 4.5 million acres in Canada and parts of the United States, forcing 60,000 people to evacuate their homes.

Smoke from the Canadian fires enveloped the Northeast, tinting the sky, polluting the air, and compelling everyone to stay indoors. The warming climate has led to an increase in ticks and a rise in mosquito-borne illnesses, accompanied by red welts and transmitted viruses. Regardless of the preventive measures, little hands and streams of sweat are beyond control. [ Sarah Zhang: Kill the ticks ] The summer season is marked by a chaotic whirlwind of activities as the last school bell rings, giving way to day camps, sleepaway camps, and improvised child care among family and friends.

These arrangements are often unwieldy and costly, with the average parent spending thousands of dollars annually. My two daughters come home from day camp before my workday ends, covered in dirt and clutching Popsicle sticks. I rush to provide snacks and entertainment, balancing peanut butter crackers and paint-by-number kits between errands.

The front yard appears too small for the Slip 'N Slide, but my daughters still attempt to play on it when the day grows tiresome. After they return from camp, I hose off their feet, lay out towels, and clean up after they retire to bed. Another chore on my list is hosting their summer birthdays, an endeavor that can be quite demanding.

Coordinating dozens of children during the vacation season is a challenge. This year, I prepared 26 icing-filled piping bags in a range of pastel hues and created tiny cakes for one daughter and her friends to decorate at folding tables in the backyard. I also transported a helium tank, balloons, tablecloths, hats, and banners to the ice-skating rink and hoped that enough kids would attend to make the effort worthwhile.

It all went smoothly, and I found myself marveling at the fleeting nature of summer, wishing it could pass more quickly. As the season draws to a close, a sense of nostalgia washes over me as I watch my children grow. Despite the challenges, I find solace in the quietude that follows as they embark on sleepaway camps or visit relatives for a break.

The house is clean, and the workload diminishes, allowing me to focus on their growth and development. When they return, the house is a mess, but I gladly join them in their adventures—sailing across New York Harbor on a ferry ride to Governors Island, a playground of food trucks, ice cream stands, and endless slides. My daughters, golden-skinned and adorned with sun-bleached braids, captivate me with their ethereal beauty.

We indulge in sparklers on the beach, illuminating their faces with silvery light as the first hints of fall begin to appear. As the summer season fades into memory, I prepare for the arrival of cooler weather, eagerly anticipating the return of darkness and quiet, along with the opportunity to witness my children's growth and maturity.