Well, it’s here! Summer. I love summer! I’ve always loved summer. My daughter’s middle name is Summer. I couldn’t think of a more beautiful word to describe her lovely little face! Summer makes the worst parts of teaching bearable…well, that and helping shape young minds and all…However, this week has been…ummmmm….long.
It started with fighting. The boys have a newfound love of wrestling, and this has truly brought a fun level of creativity to the fights. They’ve yet to discover the dramatization that occurs when a ‘professional’ wrestler choke holds his opponent. The same reaction doesn’t occur when a six year old non actor places the choke hold on his four year old brother.
I thought the kids needed bonding time after their blood inducing wrestling match, so we pulled out the Headbands game. This is always risky. Baby boy cheated nonstop. Bubba lost his temper and yelled inappropriate things. Sissy…well, she can’t handle losing. Everyone was ‘disciplined’ at one point, and old school tactics, like using soap to clean mouths, may have been employed.
After wrestling, board games, and tons of swimming I decided to torture myself by entering Target with three kids. The Target dressing room we found ourselves in was clearly created with a teeny tiny sixteen year old in mind, not three kids and a sweaty Mama with a handful of spandex. I handed the kids my phone with a kid game pulled up. I thought this would distract them long enough for me to try on fifty swimsuits. As I tried in vain to pull up a neon orange swimsuit with the word FIRECRACKER printed across the front, I heard muffled giggles. For one solitary moment I felt joy because my sweet babies were finally having fun together. One. Solitary. Moment.
I glanced to my left and froze in horror. The phone’s camera was pointed straight up at me. Yep. The camera. I screamed and grabbed my phone, quickly deleting without even peeking at the atrocity that had been recorded. We had a discussion, discipline was carefully doled out. This photo was accidentally taken in the aftermath. We left Target without a swimsuit.
I’m not sure I will survive this summer. If I don’t, all three of my readers can explain to the world that my kids killed me with their shenanigans.