I’m being eaten alive by my children.
all of you.
all you wiser parents of older kids.
all you who rolled your eyes when I was all pinterested out in the Spring.
Every plan this summer has been a flop.
The binders have become an emblem of torture for the kids.
The Reading Challenge…HA!
The weather has been horrendously hot, humid and stormy.
My house is trashed daily.
Car trips are filled with fighting and flying toys.
And they’re fighting. so much fighting.
We’ve had nasty colds, viruses, allergic reactions to medicines, teething, pink eye….to name a few.
I keep questioning whether we should have just skipped a few mortgage payments and just put everyone in all day camps.
This summer is definitely giving my ‘free range’ ‘let the damn kids play’ theories a run for it’s money.
The worst part.
It’s all me.
I’m the one who is angry about another kid getting sick, the oppressive humidity, the house being trashed, the over scheduled summer, my 4 and 6 yeard olds lack of interest in my perfectly organized age-appropriate binders and worksheets. (Really Anna, REALLY?!)
I’m the one who can’t find the patience.
I’m the one who has convinced herself that she’s socially awkward and has self-diagnosed herself with every mental health issue within googles reach.
Like really really walking zombie exhausted.
and I’m being the parent that I hate.
I can feel the stress radiating through every aspect of my life.
Fear not friends, I’ll be OK. It’s only July 20th. I have lots of summer to turn it all around.
My favorite adventures with the kiddies are on the horizon.
My future holds cooler weather, lots of trees, lakes, rivers, and endless boundaries to roam.
I will be zen.
My kids will be healthy.
and my age-appropriate worksheets will make great campfire kindling.