Summer Sucks

Damn, I'm tired. Summer is just not fun for grown-ups; or, I should say, parents of young kids. Sure it's fun--for a while--if you're not working during the summer (or at all) and have not a care in the world about packing lunches for camp or worrying about sending your kid to camp with a bee sting because you don't have any sick time to use.

I used to be a stay home mom so I know the carefree feeling of summer with kids when job worries aren't even on your radar. You get to sleep in every day (except when there's swim practice, but of course you know I'm the kind of mom who would send her kid to inferior afternoon practice to avoid having to get up at 7 am) and the world is basically stress-free.

For about two weeks; three if you're lucky. Then the kids start to get bored and you get bored and then someone gets sick then you all get sick of the pool and start hating being around each other and by the end of July you're pretty much wanting to hang yourself. Maybe that's not the case for the lucky moms who get to go away for weeks at a time to a beach house or something; but then again, it's probably twice as bad for them because there's no dad in the picture--it's all mom, all the time.

Anyway, I forget my point, because I'm so exhausted from just the second day of the work/camp/swim team routine. It's 10:20 pm and I still have yet to go down and make the lunches for tomorrow. I would gladly give each kid $20 to buy a lunch at this point--hell, $50-- but of course they want one made by me. Sigh.

I digress...guess I have to go make the lunches. But now I can't, because the 4 houseguests I've had since Sunday--my inlaws, who I love and hate to speak badly of, as well as two distant cousins of Patrick's--who, incidentally, speak only French--just got home from Patrick's baseball game. Which means the 2 hours of non-socializing or working or driving or mothering time I've had since Sunday have come to an end and I'm too tired to have to go drag out the high-school French and piece together a conversation while I make lunches.

I shouldn't complain because they're all very nice and, under less hectic circumstances it would be fun to hang out and dust off the French some more; however, right now all I want to do is turn off the lights, insert my trusty Flents, down an Ambien and wake up when everyone is gone.

Anyone want to drive by and leave some Lunchables in my driveway by 7 am tomorrow? Mimi likes pizza and Matthew likes turkey and cheddar.

Lest my rant has put you in a funk, let's take a page from my sister Cassie's blog: I defy you to look at this page and not smile. Or at least wonder "WTF?"