Day 8 of the 19-day blogging for Top Military Mom spree! Pretty please go vote, you can do it once a day, and I would be so tickled pink if you did!!! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Warning. I’m feeling very Avenger-y today. Why? Because it’s kind of my life around here.
I guess this picture is pretty fitting.
Aaron is very upstanding and moral.
Aidan has been known to fly into uncontrollable fits of rage.
Chase is pretty sure he’s a God.
Brody knows that he basically runs our world.
Summer is here.
Lord, have mercy.
You see, as much as I wish I was an awesome Pinterest mom, I’m just not. Oh, you know who they are, the houses are perfect, the projects endless, their kids are playing in a tree house made out of left-over Popsicle sticks, zip ties, and egg cartons… whatever. You know, I could be a great pinterest mom, if everything I pinned magically showed up the minute I clicked on it. Yup.
So all around me on the Facebook world, are all these mothers so excited for summer. They’re pumped for their kids to be home so they can have freedom to go on crazy adventures and play all day, like it’s the best time of the year…
Yes, I want to be this mom, but I’m not. I can fake it, but I won’t: I hate summer.
I hate summer with a passion.
“WHY?” I’m sure some of you are asking. After all, isn’t summer supposed to be all:
Why? Because I like routine, and structure, and schedules, and knowing what’s going to happen on which day. I can’t keep my house clean because the kids are ripping it apart, and we’re glued to the house because of Brody’s nap schedule, so it’s not like it can be this giant adventure of summer. It can be so freaking monotonous! There’s no delineation to the days since Jason’s not home, and the fighting seems endless, but basically, I’m just a creature of habit. I like my routine.
So as this last day of school approached, I’ve had a great deal of trepidation in my soul. The boys, of course, are out of their minds with glee. I mean, they should be. Summer to a kid is like:
Only, without the half-naked people. Well, to be honest, any time you show up unannounced at my house, there may be a little boy running around semi or totally naked screaming that he’s lost his swim trunks. In fact, the likelihood is pretty high…
But I digress: The kids are psyched for school to be over, and I’m basically like:
Oh yeah. Why is this? Because the minute they get home on the last day of school, it kind of feels like:
And sometimes, trying to explain what it’s like to creatively entertain four little boys in the summer (especially when we’re forecasted for 10 days of rain right now) is kind of like saying:
I do my best to make summer fun, and interesting for them, but it always feels like when I start planning stuff, well, nothing turns out exactly like I had it pictured.
Man, I love that .gif. Now, I do enjoy summer for its freedom, and the weather. The sunshine puts me in a perpetual good mood for the most part, so it’s kinda like:
Right. With summer here, and Jason gone, well…
But maybe I’m not clear on why I detest this season so much. Maybe I’m awful for it, maybe it’s a bad thing to think, but I LOVE it when the boys have time away from one another. They need it. When they’re away, typically they form a team with each other. When they’re home, it’s all out warfare and a giant pack-like struggle for Alpha.
Guess what boys… I’m the freaking Alpha.
This house in the summer is like an unofficial looney bin. Yes, I DEARLY love the extra half-hour or so there is for sleeping in, but, well…
Because the moment I wake up and come downstairs, all hell has typically broken loose in the 5 minutes the boys have been awake. It’s always something in the morning, when one kid just wakes up all kinds of ornery, usually Chase. Let’s take this morning for example. So Chase does every single thing he can to Aidan to get him to lash out, to include saying “I’m going to get you to three strikes!” (Because he knows mama isn’t nice at strike 3). Kind of like:
At this point, Aidan has been pushed past his point of reason and it’s kind of like:
Yeah. And when I try to talk to Chase about not bugging the crap out of his brothers for the sheer fun of it, he’s basically like:
Yeah. Because I spawned a freaking tyrant from the womb. He’s been like this from day 1, folks, we’re just doing our best to contain him until he earns his poly-sci degree. Then, watch out.
So I talk to Aidan about lashing out, and it’s kind of like:
No, not really. It just seemed pretty fitting. We’re still preaching the “hands up and walk away technique,” but then Chase just has to get back in his face like:
And it’s all green skin and purple pants from there. Sigh. And yes, this usually occurs before breakfast has been served. Then you’ve got Aaron putting his two cents in:
No, of course not, but it was freaking funny, so I had to work it in. Aaron’s actually more like:
and I have to remind him AGAIN, that he is not the parent. Sigh.
At this point, Brody is reeking whatever havoc he can get away with and sneaking away, like:
And the boys let him get away with it for the most part, because he’s the baby.
So, I decided, this year, I would be proactive. This summer would ROCK. I would write at night, forget the outside world and any drama that comes with deployment, and just focus on my boys and my work. Good plan, right?
I bring you: The Boys of Summer.
See, if I was a Pinterest mom, I would have whipped out my cricut (yes, I have one I’ve never used, but that’s a whole different blog post), and made it all cute. Nope, that bad boy is wrinkled poster-board and marker. Why? Because I have 4 BOYS and no time for prettiness.
So here’s our bucket list. We have the things we want to do, and the kindness we want to show. We also have plenty of open opportunities for improvisation and new ideas. This is what’s going to rule our summer, because I’m determined to get them out of the house!
I started today. Once the bigs were on the bus, chocolate-chip cookies for teachers in hand, Brody and I took off for the store, picked up a few items and got home to set up.
We get home from the store at 9:30 a.m., and Brody is adamant that he gets one of the white chocolate cookies immediately, like
And this response triggers not a melt–down, but a logical argument from my four year-old on the merits of hunger and the energy cookies provide. And I’m just like, WHY CAN’T YOU FOLLOW THE RULES??? And he’s like:
Right. Yeah. Now I’m kind of like:
No, I did not give him the cookie. Because, like I said above, I like rules, and routine and structure, and cookies are not eaten at 9:30 A.M. Well, as a general rule.
When the bigs got off the bus (with lots of whoops and hollering), they came into a little back yard set up:
Swimsuits came on, and the waterfight began.
Did I mention we live on the mainstreet in the village? So yes, as the screaming begins, I know the neighbors are walking by, thinking my children are either wildly out of control, or being murdered. I mean, with some of the glances thrown over the fence, you’d think they’re dealing drugs in my back yard or something atrocious. But, if I’m completely honest, little boys shrieking their heads off as buckets and streams of water are tossed at them? Well…
And yes, sure…
Because it’s SUMMER, and they’re using their OUTSIDE voices at 11 a.m., so…
And yes, they are a wee bit rambunctious, but there’s no blood, and…
And in a house with four little boys, a deployed dad, and a just me… well, it’s more like:
Yeah. So, they’re going to play outside and shriek. All summer. Because just you WAIT to see what’s getting delivered this week… Muwahahahahaaaa! Now, if you look out and see THIS…
Go ahead and be concerned.
So yes, when summer rolls around, I know that it’s going to be 11 weeks of me ending every day like:
But you know what??? I have these four little boys, which is basically like saying:
And sure, some days…
Well, let’s be honest. About 99 % of the days are madness, and sometimes our cool plans end up more like:
But the point is, they’re my little team.
And we’re going to treat this summer differently, even if most days, I wake up and think:
Or at least… not responsible for referee’ing the fight that just broke out in the toy room. Jason knows our plans, he’s seen the list, and heard the shrieking in the background when he calls, and his best advice is kind of:
And I’m kind of like…
But no. I’ve got this.
We’re going to tackle this season I hate with a vengeance of fun and adventure. And at the end of every night, as long as I can look at my boys and say:
Then, in all reality:
Let’s rock it, my little men. Sunshine, rain, pools, sprinklers, hockey camp, Boy Scouts, museums, ice cream and picnics. It’s all ours.
Here’s to the Boys of Summer.