Let me start with a very honest caveat to this article. I Kelly Krystina love my children with every fiber in my body. Yet, that does not mean I always like them. Truth.
As Philip Larkin rightly said :-
“They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.”
So clearly there is no hope that I will actually create a better, kinder version of myself. I may as well stop beating myself up, when my kid farts at the dinner table and laughs and I crack up in hysterics internally under my stern facade and, ” please do not be so rude, young man”.
I was not born to be a mother, it is not my forte or natural talent. Yes, I work damn hard at being the best version of a mother I can be, but no I am not the “chosen” one, it was never on my list of career paths. Fashion Buyer, yes, Travel Writer, yes, Architect, yes, Mother – um nope. My forte of dreams are international travel, coffee drinking, running and people watching. For example, right now I would particularly like to spend 3 days in the snow tipped mountains of Colorado, trail running every day, interspersed with fine wine drinking in exclusive vineyards and floating in natural pools totally alone.
As a family we bob alone on the sea that is school, work and after school activities and then out of no where along comes summer break. Fist pump, yes, no schedules, no early mornings, no packing lunches… WHOOP, here we come fun adventures and vacations to strange places. I dream of idling on the beach watching my beautiful boys build elaborate sandcastles and splashing in the sea.
UM NO F ING way, are you delusional? BOOM, lets start with ocean water drownings, sand rammed into eyes and rugby tackling into the surf is what I contend with, snacks dropped in to the water, (clearly all my fault as I am now their resident snack bitch). Heart broken tears when they do not get the (insert beach toy description or brightly coloured confectionery snack here). Therefore, summer has me like – shit I have birthed three, mini, ungrateful ass holes. At least one of them is my mini me GULP. Summer is grinding me down to the point, where I don’t want to parent the crying, the fights (I am really a referee and not a parent) the eternal eye rolling, continue with the constant food prep, the tidying, the keeping them entertained, safe, off electronics. I do, just want to close my eyes for a few seconds, hopefully no one will die and wish for a small moment that they may disappear for an hour or two and I can lie down with a book or take a pee and not have to break mid stream, pull up my knickers and bolt towards the blood curdling scream emitting from a child being pummeled by his sibling or the fact he cannot find (insert random toy here). I mean WTF – you mean that broken plastic toy you have not touched for months.
I don’t want to deal with their ass holeness, when I need to work on my inner ass hole and man she looms large some days, Yes I have walked silently behind my wonderful small child flicking the double V sign and no it is not for peace, maybe peace out, as he berates me, with his smart talking mouth of how unfair I am and life is, that he cannot have a play date this second with his friend I have never met, let alone the parents. I just do not have the capacity to deal with a double dosage of the ass… At that point it is all about survival until 7.30pm and I can put them to bed. Or myself 🙂
Older people say let them get bored oh and I do, but unless my three boys are given a constructive physical activity, they will just run wild around the house like Genghis Khan heading into battle or they wrestle over every item of furniture they can find, imagine the noise and destruction, please imagine that. Mind Blown BOOM. Each day is a re enactment of “Lord of the Flies” and each day I wonder so who will be Piggie today?Occasionally, they play quietly, but they are boys they need to move and letting them run out and play in the streets on the afternoon of a 95F Florida summers day, well that lasts all of 5 minutes and they can only be in the pool for so long before someone attempts a back flip in the shallow end. NOT COOL – I scream in horror as I pour myself a large drink and turn on another kid friendly movie. PEACE.
Yes I agree Summer, is fun and truly it is, but oh its distressingly hard, to the point where I cannot decide if I love or dislike those hot summer days of supposed freedom and carefree fun?
I’ll let you know once these 10 weeks are up, probably from a padded cell in the local mental asylum. 🙂