By Andrea Lavinthal, a Greenwich Mom of two who is the Style & Beauty Director at PEOPLE. Like many families, Andrea and her husband, Justin Gregory and their kids Saxon, 5, and Vaughn, 3, moved to town from Manhattan at the beginning of the pandemic. Read more about her in her Meet a Mom Interview.
Stop what you’re doing (plucking a chin hair in the parking lot of Whole Foods while there’s a four car backup for your spot), put down your iced almond milk latte and give yourself a round of applause for making it through another school year, not to mention the last month alone which brought three rounds of strep, the Scandavol reunion and the day when the sky turned orange from smoke. It’s finally summer, which means you get to ship at least one of your kids off to camp and can spend the next eight weeks drinking Whispering Angel by a pool while gossiping with your mom friends about who’s on Ozempic (everyone) and who’s taking mushrooms (also everyone).
Or at least that’s how you’ll be presenting your summer on Instagram. In reality, you’re still mom-ing just as hard as you do the rest of the year, only now you get to do it while feeling pressured to make the absolute most of every second because some moron said you only get 18 summers with your kids.
That’s why we put together this “fun” checklist to once again remind you that you’re not the only mom who’d rather sit inside on a gorgeous day watching Sex and the City reruns on E! — commercials and all — than attend yet another barbecue/pool party/beach outing. But remember, the school year and its unique brand of insanity will be here faster than you can click “add to cart” on a new pair of Hermès Oran sandals, so let go of the mom guilt for a minute and enjoy yourself however and whenever you can.
- Accept that you’re now someone who sits at concerts. And leaves early. And hates concerts.
- Cut curtain bangs after seeing them on a 19-year-old influencer on TikTok. Wear a hat until September.
- Meet your friends at the beach. Apologize for not having a pedicure/forgetting to shave legs/sweating/existing in general.
- Start a rumor that Stephanie’s outdoor furniture is from Wayfair, not Restoration Hardware like she claims.
- Reignite last summer’s text chain with Lindsey B, Lindsay S, Lauren K, Lauren T, Jessica and Rachel. After 32 texts, land on a date and a restaurant that’s convenient for no one. Cancel an hour before. Never talk to them again.
- Make an appointment for a chemical peel after your toddler tells a stranger that his mommy has a “brown mustache.” (It’s called melasma, Jackson, and your mom got it when she was pregnant with your ass.)
- Write an anonymous post on UES Mommas asking if anyone has ever ordered Nobu for visiting day at camp. Sit back and enjoy the comments.
- Request a table outside. Move to a table inside.
- See the Barbie movie while microdosing.
- Treat yourself to a scoop of full fat ice cream even though it gives you explosive diarrhea.
- Celebrate your 15th anniversary by posting a photo from your wedding where you look like you’re at your birth weight and his eyes are closed.
- Complain that the fireworks are too loud.
- Spend $470 on matching Vilebrequin bathing suits for your husband and son. Spend $36 on a bathing suit for yourself at Target.
- Ask Siri if nap dresses are still in. (They are, but only in the new Gen Z-friendly micro-mini version that makes you look like a slutty American Girl Doll.)
- Donate $100 to charity every time you say “out East.”
- Donate $100 to charity every time someone says Puglia is the new Capri.
- Realize you’ve been calling it “poog-lee-ah. (It’s pronounced “poo·lee·uh.”)
- Tell Chat GPT to write a letter to your kid at sleepaway camp.
- Withhold sex until your husband agrees to install an outdoor pizza oven even though you don’t eat carbs. Or cheese.
- Get an email from the president of the PTA asking you for an update on the back to school bake sale you offered to chair. Throw your phone into the ocean.