Where Were the Lazy Days of Summer?

that was summer vacation

The kids started school on Wednesday. A moment that I had been waiting for for quite some time. Yes, that’s right, I had a countdown going. 5 more days…4 more days… As the big day got closer I would find myself smiling for no reason. Little bursts of hysterical laughter would escape me as I imagined the joy of the big yellow school bus arriving. My kids thought I was going mental. “Why do you keep giggling?” they would innocently ask me. “No reason. No reason at all.” Suckas. The end of their summer vacation marked the end of my busy season. It marked the end of the every day craziness. It marked the end of the shit show. School starting meant I finally had a minute to breathe. And I couldn’t wait.

So the big day comes and I was up early with excited butterflies in my stomach and so much pent up nervous energy bursting out of me that I was practically walking into walls. It’s the big day. The BIG DAY! One by one the kids got ready for the day. One by one they gathered their things to walk out the door. One by one they got on the school bus. And one by one they drove away. (except for the youngest two, but whatevs. I can handle two measly kids with one hand tied behind my back. Easy.) I headed home from the bus stop humming a happy tune and waiting for the feelings of joy to wash over me. I got home, flopped on the couch and waited to be bombarded with all the amazing feelings I had anticipated feeling for so long. Freedom. Exhilaration. Relief. Delight. I could feel them all bubbling up inside me. Which one would make it to the surface first? Probably Delight. No, maybe joy. Oooh, I wonder if it will be exhilaration! That’d be nice. Here we go…I feel so…I feel so…I feel so crappy? Wait, what?! Oh my god, why do I feel crappy? What the heck? Why do I feel bad?

Am I sad that summer is over?

Can it be?

Oh no. I am. I’m sad that summer is over. Who am I? I don’t even like summer all that much. It’s too hot, and there are bugs everywhere, and my hair looks weird. But, still. Can it really be that summer is OVER? That was IT?  Where were the lazy days of summer that everybody talks about? Where was the lying on the grass and looking at the clouds? Where was catching dragonflies and fireflies? Where were s’mores over the firepit every night, drippy ice cream cones, and sitting in rockers on the front porch drinking lemonade? In the movies they make it look so nice and relaxing. And easy. And smiley and happy. That’s the summer vacation I wanted. Not the shit show that it actually was. I guess I just pictured the whole thing so much differently in my head. Next year we are going to do it right. Next year we are going to be relaxed and spontaneous and everyone is going to get along and no one is going to try to kill each other and we are going to make gimp bracelets. Sure, it’s going to take a lot of planning to be that easy breezy, but I’m up to the challenge. Next summer is going to be amazing! And I have a whole entire Pinterest-filled year to plan it out.

In the meantime, we are almost upon my absolute fave season: Hallothanksmas. I love it. Now THIS is a season of fabulousness. I can envision it now. There will be pumpkins being carved, pumpkin bread being made, perfect Halloween costumes created, turkeys being eaten, thanks being given, and Christmas presents bought early and on sale and without any of the crazy stress of last year’s holiday season. I’m pretty sure that it is all going to be exactly as I have it pictured in my head…


Jumping the Shark


Okay, it’s official. I’m calling it, right here, right now. The Summer of 2015 has officially jumped the shark.

I’m not the only one who is dying a slow death at this point in the summer…am I? Because it kind of seems, from looking at your Facebook pages, that many of you are actually still enjoying this endless hell. Some of you are still posting pictures of your spectacularly fun adventures. And, if my eyes don’t deceive me, there is actual photographic evidence of your children smiling and getting along. There aren’t ANY pictures of them bickering. None at all.  According to Facebook you’re having the time of your life. You’re all like, “hashtag lovin summah vacay,” and I’m all, “hashtag will this madness never end.”

I don’t know how you’re managing to do what you’re doing over there…But over here we have become the Fonz.


Arthur freakin’ Fonzerelli.

This summer has turned into Fonzie, wearing a cool leather jacket, a weird yellow life preserver, and being pulled behind a boat on a pair of water skis…

…as he jumped the shark, and officially signaled the end of all that was good.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the July portion of summer was even all that great. It’s just that for those first few weeks of summer I was riding the emotional high of not having to pack lunches and usher hostile, fake-sick children out the door every morning.  I internally celebrated that freedom with such gusto that for an entire, oh I don’t know, seven days, I just basked in the delight of our new, lavish, unscheduled lifestyle. Around the end of the second week I started to come down from my high…and by the end of week three I had fully crashed. The days were long and endless. And hot. But still, you know, whatever. It was summer so it still sort of felt better than school.

And then it didn’t.

I’m not sure of the exact moment when we jumped the shark over here. To give you a general time frame, I would have to say that it was sometime AFTER my car started to smell like sour milk, but BEFORE my 4-year-old started singing the Fuck You Thunder Song from Ted. Somewhere right around there. A simple 4-year-old flip of the bird and time came screeching to a halt. And now I still have the entire rest of the MONTH to get through. Practically an entire month of “What are we doing today? I’m bored! What day is it? There’s no food in this house. What time is Dad going to be home? Hey, mom, watch me! What are we doing tomorrow? Can we have a sleep over?”

Suddenly making lunches, packing backpacks, signing permission slips, and fighting about homework doesn’t seem so bad. It it actually feels like it would be sort of dreamy. Sort of like that magical feeling when Fonzie kicks the side of the jukebox and a Pinkie Tuscadero song comes on. Like a little piece heaven.

So Summer 2015 and “sit on it.” I’m so over it.

Hashtag bring on the big yellow school bus.



To Camp or Not to Camp…that is the question


“Why do you need to sign them up for summer camp?”

My husband asked me that question the other day. He actually asked it like it was a real question and not a joke. As if he didn’t notice me frantically scouring the town’s rec department website for fun camps that might still have openings and that I might be able to get the kids to go to for a few days this summer without having to fight them (or pay them, like I did last year. Don’t judge me.)

Why do I need to sign them up for camp? Did he seriously just ask me that? Can he NOT see the wild look of desperation in my eyes?

Oh my GOD! I’m half in the nuthouse right now just IMAGINING the endless summer with all 5 of them at home. I have to send them to SOME kind of camp. Something. Anything. My husband’s rationale was that we could save money not sending them to camp (which does get pretty expensive when you have to send 5 kids) and that HE never went to camp in the summer (so therefore summer camp is unnecessary, somehow.) But when I was a kid I DID go to camp. My mom would get out the summer catalog, and we all “got” to pick two one-week day camps that we wanted to go to. It was the greatest! I felt so lucky as I scanned the catalog trying to decide which class I would grace my presence with. I remember one year I went to baton twirling camp. A one-week camp that taught you how to twirl a baton. I had no need for this skill, but I didn’t care. Neither did my mother. She just signed all the paperwork and stood in our front door waving as the bus pulled into the neighborhood and we all got on for our awesome summer camp classes. See ya later, suckas!

And, by the way, I don’t even actually think that boycotting all summer camps would save us money in the long run.

If you think about it, after an entire summer spent dodging the daily question of “what are we doing today?” (as if I’m supposed to have a daily list of super fun activities planned…like they would at, oh I don’t know, CAMP), and trying to keep them all from killing each other, I’m most likely going to have a mental break down. It’s basically inevitable. I’ll go bananas, and then I’ll need expensive therapy. I’m talking full on, “she’s been hospitalized for exhaustion, look at her over there all curled up in the fetal position in the corner” kind of therapy.

An extended stay at some posh mental hospital has GOT to be more expensive than camp, right? Plus there are all the little expenses that you don’t think about when you are getting ready to lose your mind instead of sending the kids to camp because you’re trying to save a few bucks:

  • All the gas money spent as my poor husband has to visit me 3 times a day (it get’s lonely in the hospital, and I love visitors)
  • The money paid to the babysitter to watch the kids while he visits me (They can’t come with him, I couldn’t bear to have them see me like this…even though it is their fault that I am here.)
  • The daily delivery of fresh flowers (you know, just to keep my spirits up)
  • A personal mani/pedi person to come in weekly to keep my nails groomed (What? I’m supposed to live like an animal?)
  • A once-a-day twice-a-day Starbucks delivery of a grande hot chai tea latte extra hot with an extra pump of chai. Plus tip.
  • A new wardrobe once I get out (I’m pretty sure that I’ll lose weight while I’m in there)
  • Someone to come in once a day and tell me I’m pretty (just because)
  • Not to mention the expense of the limo ride to the hospital, and then home again when I am done with my treatments

It ain’t cheap. It ain’t easy. And it ain’t happening because they are going to camp.

See, the thing about summer vacation is that it only SEEMS fun and relaxing. But it’s actually the opposite of fun and relaxing. Think of something that is tiring and annoying, and that is summer vacation. Oh, wait, picture that your whole day is spent trying to keep 73 bunnies in a cage. That’s your whole job…just keep the bunnies alive, fed, and in the cage. Sounds easy enough. But the cage only has three sides. And the bunnies keep escaping. And every time you think you have them all in you see one across the yard that you have to go retrieve. Every now and then when you get a chance you huck food at them (and you don’t even care that it is basically just junk food because, omigod, they won’t stop escaping) but for the most part you just spend the whole day running around like a crazy person. Oh, and the bunnies complain and tell you that you are mean. And it’s really hot out. So your hair is frizzy.

THAT, that right there, is the real summer vacation.