Halfway Through Summer: Soak Up Every Last Second, Mama

Somehow, we blinked—and just like that—we’re halfway through summer.

The pool towels are already a little sun-bleached, the flip-flops are wearing thin, and the sunscreen bottle is nearly empty. The freezer is stocked with half-melted popsicles, and the kitchen table bears the marks of sidewalk chalk, slime kits, and half-finished Lego castles. It’s the sweet, sticky, noisy, chaotic heartbeat of summer with our babies. And now, with just a few weeks left, we find ourselves somewhere between “Is it August already?” and “How am I going to survive four more weeks of this?”

Because here’s the thing: summer isn’t always easy—but it is magical.

It’s giggles through the sprinkler and lazy mornings in pajamas. It’s sunburned noses and ice cream for dinner. It’s blanket forts, backyard campouts, and watermelon juice running down bare bellies. And for those of us in the thick of raising children, it’s also a reminder of the passage of time—slow in the moment but flying by in the rearview.

Mama, we only get 18 summers.

Eighteen firefly seasons. Eighteen Fourths of July with sparklers in tiny hands. Eighteen times to pack peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chase little legs down the beach. That might sound like a lot. Until you realize how fast it all goes. If you’re holding a toddler in a swim diaper today, the number might be closer to 16. If you’ve got a middle-schooler who just hit a growth spurt, you may be staring down your last handful.

And while it stinks—really stinks—that we don’t get to keep them little forever, we thank God for every single sticky, loud, precious moment.

So, here’s your reminder: don’t rush it.

Don’t let the to-do list or the mess or the heat wave steal these last golden weeks. Stay up late and catch the stars. Let them fall asleep on your lap after too many s’mores. Run barefoot through the yard with them. Say “yes” to the sprinkler, the beach day, the splash pad, the park—even if it’s a hassle. Buy the ice cream. Always stop for the snoball. Make the memories.

Take the picture. Let them see your smile, your sunhat, your joy. You don’t need to have a

perfect body or perfect lighting. You just need to be present.

Because here’s the other thing: they don’t really need an epic vacation or a Pinterest-perfect bucket list. They just need you. Your voice reading the bedtime story. Your hand reaching for theirs as you cross the parking lot. Your laughter when they make a goofy face. Your “I’m proud of you” whispered into their sun-kissed hair at night.

Halfway through summer means we’ve still got time. Time for cannonballs and card games. Time for front porch popsicles and watching the clouds roll by. Time for one more sleepover in the living room. One more scavenger hunt. One more round of “Mom, watch this!”

Yes, the days are long. The mess is real. The fridge is never full. The laundry never ends. But mama, the years are so short. And these years? These are the ones we’ll look back on one day and ache for.

So, whether you’re 25 and chasing toddlers or 55 and holding onto your last high schooler, know this: God picked you to be their Mama, and this season—hot, loud, messy, and magical—is a holy one. It’s not perfect, but it is precious. And it is fleeting.

Take a nap with them. Build the sandcastle. Let them help make the pancakes, even if it means eggshells in the batter. Go ahead and let them stay up for “just one more” round of flashlight tag. Your future self will thank you.

And when the sun sinks low and the mosquitoes start their hunt, sit still for just a minute. Thank God for this life, these babies, these little lives that make yours fuller. Praise Him for another day with their giggles in your ears and their crumbs on your counter.

Because one day the house will be quiet. The calendar will be open. The sink will stay clean. And you’ll miss the mess, the noise, the sticky fingers pulling at your sleeve saying, “Come play, Mama.”

So, play.

Laugh. Chase. Splash. Stay up late. Go slow. Be silly. Make memories.

You’re halfway through summer, Mama. Soak it in like sunshine.

Most of us will only get 18 of them.

Thank you for your time. Be strong. Be brave. And, let everything you do be done in love.