• When I was young, I enjoyed lazy, golden summer breaks.
• I want my kids to have restful, easy summers, too.
• I know this time can't last forever, but that just makes me want to enjoy it even more.

Growing up in South Florida, summer breaks were a blur of pool days, sleepovers, mall trips, and a lot of sleeping in. My days fell into an easy rhythm: I'd roll out of bed around noon, toss on a swimsuit, grab a Diet Pepsi and a granola bar, then flop into a lounge chair by the pool. Afternoons were spent reading and swimming laps, and in the evening, I could be found on the phone or hanging out with friends until curfew.

I got my first part-time job the year I turned 16, and my schedule shifted around work hours. But I still slept in whenever I could and spent a ridiculous amount of time on the phone when I wasn't working or practicing my driving.

I remember those summers as relaxed, carefree, and fun — three months of doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. My parents rolled their eyes when I was still in bed at lunchtime, but it was the 1980s — helicopter parenting wasn't a thing. As long as I did my chores, I was golden. And so were my summers.

My kids are having a 1980s summer

We're four weeks into summer break, and I'm happy to report my kids have settled into their own version of a 1980s summer. Some people call it "kid rot" — lounging around on screens, staying up until midnight, and generally doing a whole lot of nothing. But as an older mom, it feels just about perfect to me.

My kids aren't attending camps or academic programs, and I have (almost) no guilt about letting them sleep in as late as they want. In fact, I want them to enjoy these long, lazy days with no agenda.

Soon enough, they'll be headed back to school, to SATs and geometry class, to clubs, part-time jobs, and volunteer hours. After that, they'll be off to college, jobs, and a busy life that leaves no room for weeks and weeks of downtime.

I know this time can't last forever

Knowing these lazy days of summer can't last is one reason they're so special. As we get closer to the start of school, I'll start nudging my sons to go to bed earlier and crack open the summer reading they've ignored since May. I'll begin tugging gently on the loose boundaries that this season has allowed. They'll push back — of course they will — and there will be late nights come September when they think they can stay up past midnight and still function at 7 a.m.

My kids will learn, like I did, that summer's easy, breezy flow doesn't carry over into the structure of a jam-packed school year. They'll wistfully say, "I miss summer," and I will silently agree as I send them off to school — backpacks full of books, folders, goals, dreams, and the first hints of their future just coming into view.

I'm trying to enjoy summer, too

My kids' summers have always looked like this — relaxed days and mostly empty schedules, aside from the occasional beach or lake trip. I've spent years feeling vaguely guilty that I haven't packed their break with classes and camps and educational field trips.

But then I remind myself that we live in a culture that glorifies being busy, where self-worth is often tied to paychecks and accomplishments. Even being truly at rest takes effort — rearranging personal and professional schedules and front-loading or back-loading work just to steal a few days of true downtime.

I think back to my younger self — happily sleeping in, reading for hours, or lounging by the pool with no goal beyond a Coppertone tan — and I wonder what changed. When did a four-day weekend start to feel decadent and undeserved? When did I start calling it a "vacation week" if I only put in 20 hours of freelance work and checked off a couple of big chores?

I'm trying to relearn how to relax while letting my kids do what still comes naturally to them. I'm less focused on preparing them for the "real world" than I am on giving them memories of a carefree summer spent resetting and refueling. This isn't "rot" to me — it's the kind of downtime that gives them space to think, dream, and even get bored. They need it — and I'm reminding myself, so do I.

• Some parents still have kids write thank-you notes and others would be glad to never see one again.
• Parenting and etiquette experts agree it's important to teach kids gratitude.
• However, that can be done through a text or video message, they said.

Picture throwing a birthday party for your kids. They're excitedly opening presents, and you're keeping track of who gifted what. After the party ends, while your child is napping (or bouncing off the walls from too much sugar — no judgment), you're slowly cleaning the house.

Your eye catches that list, and you start to think about the arduous task of thanking everyone for the Lego sets and stuffies. There's a question that's been looming over your head like a cloud, now threatening to rain — do you force your child to write thank-you notes, or not?

The practice of expressing written thanks in some way has been around for centuries and, perhaps surprisingly, in an age of ecards, texts, and FaceTime, the greeting card industry is one of growth. And thank-you notes are the third most popular cards after birthday and sympathy, and women buy the bulk of them at around 85%. However, whether they're bought by child-free folks, parents who still believe in handwritten thanks, or parents begrudgingly making the purchase, that's a harder question to answer.

Whether you're the type who always has monogrammed notes on hand and covets quality cardstock, or you're a parent who would be most grateful never to have to write a note of thanks again, there's some common ground: thank-you notes have become strangely controversial. The more rebellious gift recipients say the expectation to write notes is outdated and pedantic, while proponents say a handwritten token of gratitude is simply manners 101.

Thank-you notes take time and energy, but some still think they're important

Emily Genser, 48, says sending a thank you in the mail is an essential practice. Her 13-year-old son has been diligently working his way through about 75 thank-you notes for gifts he received at his bar mitzvah. Gesner, who lives in Connecticut, is OK with him taking his time — her son has been filling out five notes every day — but feels it's essential that he handwrite a formal card.

"I think there's something to be said for the time it takes for my kids to do it," said Genser.

That time reflects the effort that went into sending a gift and attending the event, said Gesner, who is also a mom to a 15-year-old. She wants her kids to "understand that things don't come to you out of nowhere," she said. "That there's a person behind every gift."

As a fellow mom of two — my daughters are 7 and 11 — I agree with Gesner's sentiment (I do, in fact, keep quality cards on hand for just this purpose). Yet, I lack her follow-through. My oldest's birthday was last month. When she received a card with $20 in the mail from a family member, I told her she could only spend the money after sending a thank-you note. The money is still untouched, and I haven't had the energy to push her to send the notes.

How to have kids express their thanks has been a hot topic

When I contacted experts about thank-you notes, I was relieved to see that those I spoke with also have a nuanced approach to thank-you notes. They said it's important that kids express gratitude, but less important that they do that by writing a note.

"Forcing kids to write a formal note when it feels like a chore kind of misses the point," Monika Roots, a child psychiatrist, mom of two, and cofounder at Bend Health, said. "What matters more is helping them say thank you in a way that feels genuine, whether that's a quick video, a simple message, or even a drawing. It's less about the format and more about building a habit of gratitude that they'll carry with them as they grow."

Even a quick thanks can build a connection

Roots' advice was music to my ears. In addition to the card and cash, my daughter received a birthday package from her uncle. I took a video of her opening the gift (an instant-print camera) and snapping a photo with it, then quickly sent it to my brother. He loved seeing his niece's genuine joy, and neither my daughter nor I had to put the effort into writing a card that he would just toss.

Although it was easier than sending a card, this type of thank you can be just as impactful, said etiquette expert Genevieve Dreizen, author of "Simple Scripts to Support Your People: What to Say When You Don't Know What to Say."

"Gratitude builds connection," Dreizen said. "It makes people feel seen, and it strengthens relationships over time. The act of saying thank you — whether it's a scribbled note or a phone call — teaches empathy, mindfulness, and reflection, especially for children."

Dreizen said etiquette should be rooted in values, not performance. If your kids prefer making a fun video or a colorful drawing to express their thanks, that's OK. In fact, if they're working on something they're excited about, it may be even more appreciated.

"What matters is teaching them to acknowledge kindness in ways that feel authentic to them," she said.

Prompts and snacks can help get thank-you notes done

If you're a parent who feels strongly about traditional thank-you notes, that's also fine. There are ways that you can make the whole process feel less like a chore for both you and your kids, like doing just a few cards at a time, having fun stationery and pens, or working on them while sharing a snack.

Offering a prompt or script can also help, according to parenting coach and mom Jenn Brown. She suggests a fill-in-the-blank type note, like this:

Dear [Name], Thank you for [the gift or gesture]. It really meant a lot because [personal reason]. I felt [emotion] when I opened/received it. Thanks again!

"It's not about getting every word perfect," Brown said. "It's about helping them build the habit of expressing appreciation in a way that feels doable."