I’d like to say that I have been spending my summer days on my back patio, soaking in the sun next to the new pool of the house we just bought–possibly sipping on a Margarita with a straw hat on and watching my children in excitement. Instead, I have been a referee, parented by my 8 year old coparent, a complaining consumer when my son was verbally assaulted at the grocery store for singing from a grocery bagger, and the victim of my son playing “Whose your daddy”: by slapping my ass repeatedly in the clothing store while I was trying on clothes. (with the best audience for him, ie, his sisters). Not to mention that my daughter has managed to get hurt ever single night outside playing and when I mean every single night, I mean every single night. Neighbors are noticing too. Its like that cold sore on your mouth that you convince yourself that other people won’t realize, but when they keep staring at it because you keep touching it, you are screwed. Same as when your neighbors realize that your kids have their own crocheted “boo boo” bag and say. “iIt must be that bad as what I’m seeing because they have their own boo boo bag.” ( i never said we were an elegant bunch).
My middle daughter has now turned ghetto…twerking it in her bedroom wearing only “my little pony” underwear and running around the house saying “that’s bullshit”. I’d understand if I said that, but I don’t. (i have other choice words). Next thing I’ll know is that she going to go by the name” Elizabeth Carlye” (her new porn star name) or Lil’ Lana for extra street cred with Ariel tattooed on her boob.
My son has decided he’s done coming to me with issues. He just does them or leaves. I hear the front door close and find him walking to the neighbor’s house to socialize when he’s bored with me. If I haven’t made it to the kitchen to get his food fast enough, he just eats 12 bags of fruit snacks and usually a couple of cheerios off the floor, maybe an ice cube or two. I try to give him hugs and kisses to tuck him in and he tells me to leave and close the door. Like what two year old does that? He has become my pimp by slapping me in the face, and then sucking on it. Shopping with him is like walking on eggshells because he is either acting like America’s Host waving at everyone or throwing a tantrum on the floor. Clerk says, “Oh don’t worry, We had a kid once who blew his whistle the whole time..” Me: Oh that must have been awful. (Insert me dropping to the floor also screaming here).
My first born is now 8 going on 28. I can’t tell because of her attitude issues. I come into a room and she is giving orders to my other children whether I am present or not. “Mommy, tell the kids to clean up their mess!” (um…what did you just say to me)…
We go on vacation next week so I am expecting no issues with a 7 hour drive and 3 children smashed in the back like sardines. All it takes is someone to place their pointer finger on the other’s car seat and “MOMMMEEEE!” (Is drinking and driving legal yet?) Luckily, I will pack all sorts of activities for them that they won’t do and leave super early so they won’t sleep to avoid such stressful situations. I’ll get my car all geared up with boogie boards so that they will cry when they get knocked over by a wave and sand buckets to build huge sand castles that will only get knocked over by their sibling just to piss them off. But , yet, I won’t have to clean or do laundry, and only have to tuck them all in one bed. There will be no issues with “three in the bed and the little one said…MOOMMMIEIEE!” Or just when one of them starts vomiting over the others in the middle of the night. (Can’t say it won’t happen to you).
I will shower with my daughters after 8 hours at the beach because it is the only way to effectively get them clean with no detachable nozzle, only to be told how disgusting my body is in order to get ready for the 45 minute lines on the boardwalk park rides. (just as I made them wait in the princess lines at Disney World for two hours a pop). “I didnt’ come all this way for you NOT to meet Rapunzel damn it!” (Um…who is this for anyway?)
Yes, summer vacations are not what they used to be. I have exchanged driving up and down the the main strip at the beach, blasting music with the windows down for goKart riding with my kids. Long nights of drinking have turned into happy hours while the kids go the hotel’s craft time that lasts all but an hour. (but its the best hour of the day).
Reality sets in that there really are no real vacations for a parent and all of this is worth it 20 years down the line when your kids say, “Remember,. Mom…remember when my entire toenail ripped off and I thought my toenail was gone forever and you calmed me down and told me that it was going to be okay, and it was.” and “Remember when we got up super early at the beach and watched the sunrise and even got to see the dolphins swimming that morning?”
And after all, we were the ones drinking into the wee hours of the night in hopes of finding the right person to marry and start a family, that would inevitably end in the summertime sorrows that we always wanted in the first place.:)
Be true, be you.