It’s starting to happen. We are officially a month into summer break and they are turning on me. I have been nice, we have had trips to the pool, the movies (in $100 3D no less) ice cream outings and play dates. I am freaking exhausted. Who do these kids think I am; a camp counselor? I am 40 not 19. I will not sing chants as we walk into the gym. I won’t put a Band-Aid on every microscopic wound and I will tell you to “suck it up” when you say it’s hot and you are tired.
Why can’t they just entertain themselves? We used to ride our bikes with friends from breakfast until dinner. Our moms yelled at us if we showed our face inside. My kids want me to “play” with them. What is that? Can we play “folding laundry” or “plucking mommy’s eyebrows”? How about playing “lets pay bills” or “make the Daddy dinner” No, they want me to make play dough and do science experiments using all my good kitchen pots. Nope, not happening.
Can someone just drop off a twelve year old to entertain them please? I will feed them, say nice things and even give them life lessons on why getting good grades in school is key. They will leave with the best birth control in the world, seeing my three year old throw an all out tantrum, naked on the floor, because I put her juice in the wrong cup. She will not leave wanting to end up on MTV’s “16 and pregnant”.
