What did those kids do to that nice lady?

Monday, June 17, 2013

Summer Fun

So, I’m not counting or anything, but I have approximately 13 hours of peace and quiet to myself until The Offspring are sprung from their school schedules and thrust into what is quite possibly the greatest time of a child’s life, while at the same time sends shivers down the spine of parents everywhere...yes...it’s Summer.  Now, I have to cautiously declare that after my first year of “real” school with my Kindergartner, I am kinda ready for summer.  I’m ready for a break from homework (Yes.  I need a break from Kindergarten homework.  Judge away.)  I’ll be happy to not pack lunches every morning and then washing those godforsaken little reusable containers every afternoon.  I can maybe relax a little over the next 10 weeks or so not thinking every day...what am I missing?  I must be missing SOMETHING!  I’m looking forward to lazy afternoons at the beach, exploring a few new museums with The Children and hitting the road for a couple vacations.  It’s kind of like I’m this little puppy dog, filled with fresh energy, my tail wagging with anticipation of all the FUN! and ADVENTURE! that awaits the Gelato Family.  Summer?  Bring it on!  

But who in the hell am I kidding?  We all know that in a couple weeks, maybe 10 days, hopefully not before a week passes, I’ll be thinking to myself: THAT WAS SO CUTE HOW I WAS ALL LOOKING FORWARD TO SPENDING EVERY WAKING SECOND WITH YOU and then I will cry when asked to play Monopoly Junior for the 72nd time that day and I’ll entertain visions of going to a JOB where I leave the Children with SOMEONE ELSE.  Every day.  It’s not that I don’t WANT to be with my Children, it’s just that sometimes I want to be somewhere else.  Alone.  

The other day, Son wrote a letter to his friends that he wanted to mail to them.  But instead of making a special trip to the store to buy a very large envelope that the “letter” would fit in and then going to the Post Office, GOD ANYWHERE BUT THE POST OFFICE PLEASE, I suggested we make the 12 block walk along the wood chip trail near our house to hand deliver the very special letter.  First, it took at least 17 minutes for Son and Daughter to get their shoes on.  Then, another few minutes to convince them to please go to the bathroom before we leave.  I know it’s fun to pee in the bushes, Son, but it’s not like we’re camping right now.  Then Daughter, in her eager anticipation to get the walk started, tripped and fell off the steps.  And cried.  A lot.  As she tends to do.  Once we settled down, we started off.  We made it about half a block before Son asked how much longer.  After one block and ten minutes, we made it to the trail and then made it almost 10 feet before Son stated complaining that he was getting wood chips in his shoes.  Oh, really?  And when I calmly explained that that is why I told him he should wear tennis shoes instead of crocs when we walk the trail, he not quite so calmly told me I was the meanest mom ever and he WON’T WALK ON THE TRAIL.  Okay, so off the trail we go and instead meander on a very narrow sidewalk which isn’t nearly as peaceful as the trail considering the cars whizzing by and my stress level heightened as I have visions of Son or Daughter slipping off the curb and getting hit by a car. (This is what Mothers think about.  It’s not so great.)  After that, Son walked into a telephone pole, Daughter fell again, and everyone’s legs were SO TIRED and HOW MANY MORE BLOCKS?  4 more blocks.  How long will it take?  Well, the normal equation is one minute per block, but at the rate we’re going, Son, we should get there sometime before dawn.  At long last, we arrive to the intended mailbox, fight over who gets to open the box, who gets to put the letter in, who gets to close the box.  And as I called Daddy to see where exactly he was and is there any way he can pick us up because I don’t think I can make it the 12 blocks home without going temporarily insane, my only thought was...THIS IS GOING TO BE MY ENTIRE SUMMER.

But, call me crazy, I’m still looking forward to it.  Because at the end of the day, when all is said and done and I’m snuggling with my kids before their goodnight kisses, there really is no one else I’d rather have test my mental stability.  

So...good luck this summer, Mama’s.  It’s always comforting to know that you’re not alone, isn’t it?

But for now...I gotta go.  12 hours left.

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