My Summer Mom's Orange Julius

I was raised by a Summer Mom.

For nine months of the year, my mom rotated all the hats on her head like every other woman in the eighties striving to be it all—the mother of three, the high school English teacher, the activity chauffeur, the Sunday school teacher, the women’s group leader, the home-life coordinator. But for three glorious months, she wore only one badge—Summer Mom. Summer Mom was carefree and creative, acting on all the fun plans she never had time for during the school year—craft projects, field trips, cooking adventures. Summer Mom spent lazy afternoons with her feet in the pool, a book in her hand, listening to the joyful sounds of her children laughing. And then Summer Mom came home with her hot, sticky, and worn out children to whip up magic for them in her blender. We never knew this frothy, citrus, creamy treat was available for all at the mall. To us, the Orange Julius was made from magic, love, and a hefty handful of bliss, a recipe only our Summer Mom knew how to conjure. 

It’s the last week of our summer so I’m trying to do my best channeling this spirit with my own children before we hang up the towels and pull out the backpacks (to walk to the living room school). But I’ll be honest, I’m running low. It feels like the universe summoned Summer Mom in mid March and her pantry of sparkle and optimism runneth dry. Summer Mom is about to transition into Co-Teach from Home Mom. What kind of spirit does that mom carry with her?

On good days, I have lists and plans, dreams and ideals. When my Pinterest boards fill up and my library card hits its limit, you might be tempted to think "now there’s a woman who knows how to get organized." I know myself better. Typically it’s a sign of my anxiety shoving aside the real fears I have about the future impossibly out of my control. 

Some of my greatest fears right now are the questions. What happens when it all comes crashing down? What happens when I can’t summon the spirit of optimism that my children need, that we all need to get through this challenging year? What happens when I get extroverted out and have nowhere to go, no break, no freedom, no more joy?

I’m not going to begin to say I have the answer to those fears. In fact, what I’m working on is welcoming that reality. Inviting the hard to have a place at the table too. Yep, some days, it will suck. There are more eloquent ways of saying that but today I don’t feel like mincing words. It. Will. Be. Hard.

I pull down the blender and add in the orange juice, the sugar, the milk and the ice, a splash of vanilla and a sprinkle of fun. The roar of the blender drowns out the fears in my mind, at least for the moment. I top off the glasses with sparkling water (dreaming of one with Champagne for myself) and garnish with an orange because I’m extra like that. I pass the glasses all around and pour a little bit for myself. As I take a sip I sigh with relief. The taste is just as I remembered—magic, love, and bliss.

In that drink, I think of my mom. I wonder how she might approach this school year. Balancing teaching her students with her own children learning from home sounds impossible. I think it would suck a little for her too (although she would NEVER say that word and is probably shuddering just reading it.) But I also think a bit of her Summer Mom spirit would find it’s way into our days. Maybe in those moments when it all became too much, after the meltdown, because there would be meltdowns, she might pull down her blender and whip up some magic.

Maybe that’s what we will need when it gets hard, blend up a little taste of summer’s magic, love, and bliss. Sip a glass of Sunshine and forget about the expectations and the rules and the schedules. Sometimes all it takes to face the seasons of hard is to know a taste of the carefree summer you miss is a blender drink away. 

I slurp up the last bits of the frothy drink down to the bottom of the glass. Normally, the last sip would taste melancholy, the same way I feel as we fold up the beach toys at the end of the season. 

But this time it doesn’t taste like sadness. This time it tastes a bit like encouragement.

My Summer Mom’s Orange Julius Sparkling Cocktail

Ingredients:

1/3 cup frozen orange juice concentrate 

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup water

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

5-6 ice cubes

Sparkling water or Champagne

Orange slices for garnish

Instructions:

Add first six ingredients to a blender. Blend until smooth. Fill flutes halfway full. Top with sparkling water or champagne. Garnish with orange slice, if you want to be a bit extra.