“Mom,” my 10-year-old said to me the other day, “for the first time I know what summer is all about.”I knew exactly what he meant. And I felt both glad—he should know what summer is all about—and guilty. Did it really have to wait until he was ten—almost eleven?Well, yeah, actually, it did. Because what he’s talking about is freedom, and hanging out with friends, and playing outside and sometimes losing track of the time and being late for dinner. And until this summer, that option just wasn’t available.Until this summer, as a mom who works full-time for a salary (there is…

