Summer Break Confessions

We've gotten through the first week of summer break.

I'm not going to lie to you all.  At times it was hard, yo.

Look, I can complain about my kids and it doesn't mean I don't love spending time with them.  Because I do.  But something happens when children who are used to being in school all day are suddenly NOT in school all day. 

First, they expect constant entertainment.  I mean CONSTANT. 

They want to go places, spend your money, eat ALL THE SNACKS, play with friends, take out ALL the toys that they haven't played with in months, leave shit everywhere (more than usual), and then eat MORE snacks.

They fight with each other over every little effing thing.  EVERY LITTLE THING.  One made a mean face.  One made up new rules to a dumb game that is not even a real game in the first place but it's not fair so let's scream about it.  One said that she was older.  But she IS older.  But that's not fair.  But there's nothing I can do about who was born first.  But it's still NOT FAIR. 

They don't want to shower...or even put clean clothes on for that matter.  They expect to stay up later each night, which doesn't translate into sleeping in later each morning.  They want to watch television on the sofa and fall asleep there.  All of a sudden, going into their room and going to bed is only a phenomenon that occurs during the school year.  (SERIOUSLY.  As I type this, they are asleep on the living room floor in sleeping bags...I kid you not.)

And the projects.  Oh good Lord the projects.  They want to color and tape and glue and stencil and paint and use a hot glue gun. 

Every night I hear the questions about what the plans are for the next day.  Then in the morning, more questions.  I feel like a damn event planner.  Then it's like, "What time are we going swimming?  How long are we going to be there?  Then what are we doing after that?  Are you making lunch?  Can we go somewhere for lunch?  Are we going swimming tomorrow too?"

I LOVE summer.  But it is exhausting.

Some nights I am so traumatized that I sit on the sofa with a Bud Light in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other.  And I stare at television willing that channel to change itself from Higglytown Heroes to something on Bravo.

So I'm one week in.  The kids are home (oh and my daycare will be open at least once a week) and it kicks my ass.

But I'm tough and I can look at summer break square in the face and tell her that she won't break me.  Oh no she won't. 

I'll take my dirty, tired, whiny kids and make this summer my be-otch.