Ah (sigh of relief) , summer: poolside sunbathing, relaxing on your porch with your feet up, listening to the waves hit the beach while breathing in that intoxicating salty air. It’s just so soothing, isn’t it?
Ahh! (scream) , summer: poolside corralling, relaxing with a much-needed glass of wine after the kids finally go to bed (which, keep in mind, is later than usual since they don’t need to get up for school), listening to the cries of “Moooomm” or “Daaaaaad” while slowly breathing in and out of a brown paper bag to maintain your sanity.
Yes, for us parents, the summers are endless, indeed.
A pool or an extensive yard for the kiddos to burn off some energy in certainly helps, but that only takes you so far. Add a skinned knee or 100-degree weather, and it’s time to go back inside to air-conditioned, TV-blaring bliss. Maybe you can at least do some laundry while they’re on the couch, calmly sipping a beverage. They look tame and like miniature reasonable human beings for the moment… Yes. You can do this.
You slowly slink out and throw in a load. You’re gone for maybe five minutes and come back to this scene: Legos. In every fiber of the carpet. That one drink has somehow multiplied into 100,000 half-full plastic cups. Think frat party, only with sour milk. The television is now being ignored, as are the Legos, as are the cups of milk. They lock eyes with you as you enter the room.
One jumps up from the couch, stepping over the discarded blocks with ninja-like accuracy. “I’m bored,” whines the other.
Yes, despite all the toys, electronics, and books crammed into every corner of the house, they are “bored.” Those two words echo through your hallways every day and every night. If your life had a soundtrack, it’d be called “Now That’s What I Call Noise,” and the “I’m Bored” track would just play continuously all summer long.
What us parents would give to be bored.
And, if you’re like us and happen to run a business inside the very home your children are now running amok in, then you can add countless requests for snacks (them) and infinite pleading to stop hitting one another with couch cushions (you) so you can just focus on this work-related conversation you’re attempting to hold in the “conference room” (aka the kitchen table) with your now partially frightened off part-timer.
So, let’s dump out the contents of one of those plastic cups, fill it with something more adult-friendly, and toast to the fact that while it may feel endless, summer does, in fact, come to an end.
Cheers, fellow parents!
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