Summer is my jam. I’m meant to live in places with temperatures that never dip below 75. I hate snow. I hate cold. I hate hail, wind, ice, sweaters, and especially pants. I like to be free in flowy dresses or loose tanks. I like being able to float in the water like the fluorescent buoy I am. My skin may not agree, but my heart says yes.
Some moms have plans, activities, crafts, scheduled outdoor play time, play dates, group play dates, day trips, camps. I don’t have those things. That’s mostly my fault, maybe my lack of disorganization and motivation, but I honestly don’t have the time. The kids might be home, and I might be home with them, but it doesn’t mean I am good enough, multi-task mastery enough to drop everything to dedicate to them. I’ll fully admit that my summer-enthusiast self fails in that arena, but that doesn’t mean we DON’T have activities. That doesn’t mean we do NOTHING every day all day. Our days are chocked FULL of fun!
I want to share with you how we spend our summer days as maybe an inspiration for those of you out there who may be bored, or looking for things for your kids to do. I know I’m always looking for ideas that don’t involve destroying my house with Pinterest fails, or spending a ton of money I don’t really have just to kill a few hours.
Outside of special trips & activities, here is what a typical summer day looks like around here:
6am: Kids wake up. Consider making shitloads of noise, but realize they’ve done this so many times and ruined so many sleeps that they aren’t allowed to leave their rooms in the morning until an adult comes and gets them. Quietly read or plays with toys instead.
7am: Breakfast! Weekdays get to choose between cereal, oatmeal, or waffles, and a variety of fruit. Complain about there not being enough selection.
8am: Inside play time. Find something stupid to argue over and end up getting sent to separate rooms.
10am: Creative morning snack time! As in, get creative with what we’ve got in the pantry because I’m not going to let my coffee get cold just to make you something when we have a perfectly decent selection of ready-to-eat stuff.
11am: Random chores that are apparently more painful to complete than being waterboarded.
12pm: Lunch! Get to pick a type of sandwich, or leftovers. Chooses to complain we’re not going out for lunch, instead.
1pm: Whine about already being hungry again.
1:15pm: Harass the animals
1:30pm: Act out what must be deleted scenes from The Hunger Games over the last granola bar
2pm: Impromptu trip to the park, because mom is going to snap if she’s stuck in this house any longer
2:30pm: Even with 45 other kids at the park, find a way to fight with each other over some weird version of hide & seek they’ve made up.
3pm: Impromptu reward trip to Starbucks! … for mom. For not snapping in public. Get the kids something small just to avoid hearing them complain.
4pm: 30-minute battle over Hot Wheels car found under chair
4:30pm: The “Can we sneak a snack upstairs without mom noticing?” game
5pm: Commence daily whining about being hungry and how long it is until dinner, even though dinner is only an hour away.
5:30pm: Harass the animals again
6pm: DINNER! You’d think they’d be happy. Nope. They have a competition to see who can find the more ridiculous thing to complain about
7pm: Family TV time. Aka Time to fight over what to watch time
7:45pm: Kiddie shower time. Spend 15 minutes fighting over who’s turn it is to wash their ass.
8pm: Bed time. Battle royale over tooth brushing until they each collapse into bed.
My love of the months closest to the sun is the one thing in my life that never changed, never faltered. I swore I’d never eat avocados, and now I put that shit on everything. Said I hated dresses and would never wear them unless I had to, and now half of my closet is full of breezy frocks. Insisted I would never have kids, and, well, now look at me. With those kids came the death of my Grease-level Summer Lovin’.
I never want to be one of those moms who does nothing but talk about how “it’s all fun and games until you have kids” but we’re less than two weeks into summer break and I already hate it. Summer is no longer my warm, loving friend. I don’t recognize her at all.
You might think I’m just being dramatic. Surely over 30 years of dedication to summer couldn’t possibly be ruined in less than 14 days, but if you don’t think that is a distinct possibility, you don’t have children.
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