Last week, I went for an early morning walk with my toddler and six-month-old and was shocked by the smell in the air. It was spicy, sharp, garlic…
We live 15 miles from Gilroy, a farming town proudly known as the “Garlic Capital of the World.” The smell of garlic fills the air from early in the morning until late at night. Some people love garlic or hate it, but I love it.
And the moment I smelled it, I was transported back to the summer of my fourth year.
That summer, my mom was determined to get my brother and I outside and playing as much as possible rather than glued us to the TV in the garage, so she did two things: she canceled our cable contract and she enrolled us in a local swim team that practiced Monday through Friday at 7:30 a.m.
As soon as my mom announced this plan, my brother and I protested: “What do you mean no TV?!”, “Swimming at 7:30 in the morning?!”, “How are we going to relax?”, “I hate swimming!” But my mom is a “you never know until you try” kind of woman.
So for two months, we rolled out of bed every morning and hopped into our brown 1990 Dodge Grand Caravan. As we walked to the outdoor community pool, marked with red-and-blue striped lanes, the first thing we noticed was the smell of Gilroy garlic. It felt like further insult to the injury caused by waking up early all summer.
Those first two weeks of swim practice and cartoon-free afternoons felt like the longest of my life. I hated the sting of cold water every morning and missed being able to watch back-to-back episodes of The Powerpuff Girls.
But by the third week, something changed. Sliding into the pool started to feel fun, not shocking. When I got home after practice, instead of thinking about the shows I’d missed, I played role-play with my brother. We pretended to be spies picking up messages left by James Bond, and we hung out in the garden, saying hello to our elderly neighbors and their puppies as we passed by.
To this day I’m not sure whether my mother predicted this outcome or if it was coincidence, but starting our days outside and taking away the TV established a slow, childlike rhythm. That summer, we learned to find joy in the ordinary moments: bike rides around the neighborhood in the evening, lime popsicles on hot afternoons.
My husband and I have some birthday parties and trips planned for this summer, but mostly we’re looking to enjoy some boringly relaxed summer days with the kids. I’m already trying to get into the habit of taking morning walks, and with any luck, I’ll be out early enough to smell the garlic in Gilroy.
What are your hopes and dreams for this summer? Do you have any plans or habits? Share them below…
P.S. I’m experimenting with slow parenting and a very low-key summer checklist.
(Photo by Jimena Roquero/Stocksy)
