The Elephant In The Room
There, I said it.
I do not enjoy my kids being at home every hour of every day. I appreciate them much more when we have time apart from one another.
I am the type of person who needs some solitude every day. I need routine. I need order. When my kids are home on summer vacation, there is none.
Also, this eating thing is driving me insane. Someone is ALWAYS eating something. And no sooner is the mess from one meal or snack cleaned up, than another one is in the making.
I can't get any grocery shopping or errand running done. I can't stop for coffee. Well, I can, but I certainly can't sit and sip it in a leisurely fashion while I read the newspaper or a magazine, or just people watch. I can't go to the library. I can't go get my nails done. Not that I do that, really. But if I wanted to....
And of course, I am being begged to take them to the pool every single day. Today I had to refuse because I absolutely MUST do some laundry and some perfunctory housework. But I will pay for that in the form of whining about boredom, rowdiness, and general tomfoolery while I try to get something accomplished.
Lamentably, it is quite well known that I am at home during the day. So where do you think all the kids end up? Yes, Casa de Antagonist.
Fortunately, they have all caught on to the fact that I can't and won't feed them, so they bring their own snacks and drinks when they come. But the fact still remains that I end up with a houseful of 13 and 14 year old boys. They are good boys, they really are. But they are loud. And rowdy. And smelly. Our house is small, so even when they are ensconced in Pubescent One's room, they are very much in evidence.
I have a girls' weekend planned for July. And boy, am I going to need it.
Hats off to you Moms who love having your kids home for the summer. Those of you who plan interesting, educational and invigorating activities. Those of you who picnic, backpack, camp and explore. I just don't have the werewithal or the patience.
Me? I'm counting the days until school starts again.
Last night at midnight, I hollered at my kids not to get out of bed one more time or I would open up a big old can of whupass on them. Seriously. At some point, I need to be DONE being Mom for the day.
Diminutive One was hurt because I said I didn't want to see his face again until morning.
Only 119 days to go.
God help us all.