Summer O' Fun

Last year I decided that we were going to have the Summer O' Fun.  For the most part I was trying to cope with the fact that I was pregnant with my fifth child and homeless.  By homeless I mean that I was living with my parents.  Yes, that is every one's dream that one day they will grow up, get married, have children, and move back into mom and dad's basement where they will bring home baby #5.  And being the overachiever that I am, I did just that.  I tucked my kids into bed each night and then retreated to my childhood bedroom where I rolled into bed 38 weeks pregnant thinking, "I never saw this coming."

The older I get the more I realize that there are so many things you can't plan for or anticipate no matter how hard you try.  And then I wonder why nobody warned me about them?  Isn't that why we ladies have besties?  Why didn't somebody warn me about pregnancy and postpartum?  A heads up about the hemorrhoids and involuntary farting would've been nice.  What's with all the secrecy?  It's weird!  We should be swapping pointers on how to deal with these issues just like we should be sharing pointers on how to not despise our children during the summer.  But, no.  That would be too easy.  It's much more fun to witness the innocently raw reaction like when the nurse walks you to the bathroom after your 13 hour labor and delivery and watches you pee, wipes your butt, and then puts a nice cold rubber glove full of ice on your ya-ya.  I don't know that even a warning would've made any part of that scenario feel normal.  But it sure wouldn't have hurt!

When I announced that we would be having the Summer O' Fun, why didn't somebody pull me aside and explain to me that there was no such thing?  Because no matter how fun you try to make the summer and no matter how much you love your little ones, there is only so much whining and fighting that a normal human being can handle.  Had I chosen to plan the "Day O' Fun" that would've been a different and much more realistic scenario.  But really?  The Summer O' Fun?  Uhhhh...I don't think so.  Not realistic.  It's like thinking that moving back in with my parents house was going to be easy or that maybe, just maybe, I've matured enough over the past 15 years that my dad and I wouldn't butt heads like we did when I was a teen.  Uhhhh...still no.

So then I feel guilty.  I feel guilty that my kids are bugging me.  My kids aren't suppose to bug me.  IT'S THE SUMMER O' FUN!  F-U-N!  But they are.  They are bugging me bad!  And then I feel guilty because I don't have a fun activity planned each day for the kids.  I don't even have an activity planned every week.  The extent of my planning is: I will wake up, eat breakfast, work, survive, go to bed, repeat.  Is that so bad?  Is that so abnormal?  And why do I feel guilty?  Oh, I'll tell you why I feel guilty.  It's because of all of you overachievers out there!  Stop it!  You're making me look bad!  I know you don't like your kids all the time.  Stop pretending that you do!  It's not normal!  (or am I not normal?)

I remember when I was a child and I could tell that my mother had had enough of me.  I was obviously annoying her and she was ready to scream.  I remember thinking that it was her job to like me all of the time.  I also swore that when I grew up and had kids I would always like them and they would never bug me.  Again....where was the warning?  I love my kids all the time.  However, I do not like them all of the time.  And I don't think that makes me a bad mother.  I think it makes me an honest mother.  A normal mother.

So here is my proposal and my advice.  I strongly encourage that all school districts add the following to the curriculum for the upcoming school year.  Here are a few things that nobody tells you but must be said.

* Mothers, never declare the "Summer O' Fun".  It is not realistic.  Plan for a day of fun or perhaps an hour of fun.  Then you won't feel guilty when you've run out of patience or curse words half way through the "Summer O' Fun".
* Plucking and shaving your facial hair at an early age is not only acceptable but encouraged.  Unless you're a teenage Mexican boy, a Mexi-stache is not okay.
* Pregnancy is neither easy nor glamorous.  Hemorrhoids are normal and uncomfortable.  Farting is inevitable.  And craziness is just part of the package.
* Poop is just poop.  Get used to it.  The kids will use it as finger paint.  They will wipe their butts on the shower curtain.  This is why we have Clorox.
* Motherhood is painfully enjoyable.  It is not only the hardest thing you'll ever do but the most rewarding thing you'll ever do.  And there is no such thing as a perfect mother.  NO SUCH THING!
* When your child puts stickers on his undercarriage, don't try to pull them off.  Just let him soak in the tub.  They'll come off in a few days.  No harm, no foul.
* Home cooked meals don't happen every night.  Neither do fruits or vegetables.  And that's okay!  Why do you think they invented the $5 pizza and cold cereal?  Duh!
* Someday you might move back in with your parents.  Yes.  You might.  And it's okay.  Worse things have happened.
* Fiber Gummies are not only delicious but they serve a much greater purpose.  Remember the hemorrhoids?  You're welcome.
* When you grow up you will do things that you swore you would never do and you will say things that you swore you would never say including, "If your friends jumped off a cliff would you?"  and "If you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all."  In other words, you will grow up to be your mother.
* Teaching your children how babies are made is only as awkward as you make it.  No.  I take that back.  It's only as awkward as your daughter makes it by asking, "So, mom, what position did you and dad do it in?"  (True story.)
* Tan fat is better than white fat.
* Gravity and motherhood might be rough on us women, but can you imagine the alternative?  Floating breasts and no kids.  I'll keep the saggy boobs tucked into my pants and the 5 little monkeys jumping on the bed.
* Dirty dishes will still be there tomorrow.  You're kids might not.  Leave the dishes.  Enjoy your Summer O' Fun!  Even if it isn't so fun.