How do you know that it’s summer at your house? That’s the question that my friend and fellow blogger Paige was asking in her post today. Her list was jovial and non-judgmental; something about lots of macaroni and cheese and playdates after 8pm. She spun a rather positive twist, because that’s the kind of person that Paige is. She’s one of those fun moms who plans parties and smiles all the time; not in a Stepford kind of way, just in a “hey, it’s Wednesday and I think we should plan a block party!” kind of way. I admire that in people, because that kind of perspective tends to be a little foreign to me.
Optimism. Seems like a good idea if it weren’t so much work.
The one thing I do have going for me is that I don’t tend to take a break from things like Math over the summer. For example, I’ve done some minor calculations and figured out that over the next three months there are approximately 396.5 hours that I would have otherwise had to myself that I am now sharing with two little people who I swear, if I took them to the circus, the beach, the zoo, and flew them back and forth to Disneyland all in the same day would arrive home and ask, “Now can we play with friends?” And since my alone time doesn’t show up until around 10:00 pm, I end up winding down with whatever movies are on TBS until around 1:00am and proceed to sleep in until nine. (That little whippersnapper on Home Alone 3 is a real character by the way.) Despite my mathematical prowess, I’ve simply lost count of the hours I’ve spent playing Solitaire which has proven to be a rather effective coping mechanism when trying to avoid things like bathing and feeding the children.
Not to worry. I've got a fun game planned for tomorrow called "Help Peel Mom Off The Ceiling." And if that doesn't help, maybe next Wednesday I’ll plan a block party.