When my kids were younger, I was vigilant about how they ate. I made much of what my older son consumed. I pureed organic fruits and vegetables, froze them in ice cube trays, and bought no-sugar organic puffs for snacks, little juice, and other sweets.

My, how the tables have turned. I try to think how it happened.

Like how a river can wear down a stone wall, so have I been worn down after more than a decade of parenthood. Pumpkin and zucchini muffins have been replaced with Donut Friday. They get Oreos in their lunches instead of homemade cookies. My purse contains mini bags of pre-packaged cheese crackers, “fruit” snacks, and granola bars.

How did this happen?

I figured out the answer: Life happened.

We didn’t have a lot of junk food around our house when I was a kid. Occasionally we’d have pop (saved for outings on our small fishing boat, not for everyday drinking). Mom included what she called ‘a crunchy’ in the lunches she made for us (usually a small bag of pretzels or chips). The highlight was, of course, dessert. A Little Debbie Star Crunch, Nutty Bar, Cosmic Brownie, or Oatmeal sandwich cookie was the perfect finish she included in our daily brown bags.

My best friend Maria always had a Whatchamacallit candy bar in her lunch, a treat I could barely imagine having once a month, nonetheless, daily. Her mom also wrote her notes using her nickname ‘Boo Boo,’ a pseudonym that has endured.

I’m thinking a lot about this because summer is the time of treats. Before I had children, it never occurred to me that I might consider it perfectly fine to go out for ice cream at 6 pm and call it dinner. Or that my kids would love Happy Hour dinner (an assortment of cheeses, meat, and crackers) served in front of the TV somewhere around 5. We even serve mocktails (juice and sparkling water) and cocktails (of various sorts).

These unorthodox ‘meals’ happen more frequently in the summer, and I’m OK with it. I stick to a reasonable plan during the school year: Healthy meals with primarily homemade food, eaten together as often as possible.

But in summer, the rules are different.

I’m back to work this year, so our meals will be crazier than ever. My kids will be in an assortment of camps most mornings. Luckily my schedule is pretty flexible, so we’ll be able to have some afternoon adventures. I’m sure that will include lots of hot dog stand lunches (don’t forget the milkshake!), soft pretzels at Cubs games, paletas procured from carts in the park, and smores enjoyed around the backyard firepit as we watch the fireflies and recap the day.

We’ll share summer meals together, with lots of cooking on the grill. My favorites are brats from Gene’s in Lincoln Square, served with charred veggies and fresh sweet corn dripping with butter. We can entertain friends and serve plank-grilled salmon with rice and asparagus. We’ll peel and eat pounds of shrimp dipped in spicy cocktail sauce and enjoy mozzarella with fresh basil and tomatoes from our garden.

Since it stays light for so long, dinner can start at 7 so we don’t cut into time at the park or on the trampoline, so dessert (maybe some homemade peach ice cream?) is also late, and so goes bedtime, too.

As I said, the rules are different in summer. I let go of the calendar and my guilt about crafting a perfect food pyramid every day, too.

Eventually, school schedules will loom, and we’ll have to get back on routine, but I can’t even think about it yet.

Until then, in late afternoons, you can find me hiding in plain sight on an Adirondack chair on the front porch, absorbed in one of my summer reading books, a sweating can of something close at hand, possibly dozing in the late afternoon sun. I’m probably dreaming of our next summer adventure and the treats that we will inevitably happen upon.

That’s the magic of summer: Dreams can come true.

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This essay also appeared in the May 2023 issue of FLM - Fete Lifestyle Magazine.