My threshold has been reached. I'm now counting. 50 days til school starts.Go ahead...talk smack about me...how I am a horrible parent for not embracing this time with my children. How I am going to regret "wishing them away" (or at least, in another room...or someone else's house). How they'll be gone before I know it and oh, I'll be SOOO sad.
Know what? I'm still counting. Here's why.
I'll start with the youngest two, who cannot seem to find a nice word to say to one another. EVER. Every simple statement, request, anything is examined by the other for content, tone, manners, etc and ALWAYS found lacking. And thus the bickering starts. And does not stop. EVER.
The chore thing went well for the first month. This month, well, not so much. Even though there is a weekly list on the fridge of their individual jobs and frequency, they don't seem to be able to keep up. So, they had their allowances cut by 25% this month. Negative reinforcement. The positive stuff didn't cut it. Hit'em where it hurts is my motto. My oldest two will definitely need to practice a little frugality this month.
When I think of the amount of money I spent this summer in an attempt to keep these children occupied because GOD FORBID they use their imagination or brain (for something other than keeping their skull in tact), I just want to cry. I should sit down and figure what the grand total has been so far, but if I do, I KNOW I will cry. I know that any hint of a possibility of replacing my 17 year old appliances in my kitchen...gone. Of pulling up the disgusting carpet in my living room...gone. YES...we're talking THAT.MUCH.MONEY. I bet you'd cry too.
So...most of the organized activities end this week and some next week. Then most of August, we're on our own. And I'm scared to death. Scared that it will be next to impossible to keep 4 children with varied interests active without taking on a second mortgage or them killing each other. Scared that I'll be hearing "what are we doing TODAY, Mommy?" in my sleep and I'll not have an appropriate activity planned. Like that dream where you're standing in front of people naked. Um... sorry, that was never a favorite of mine.
OH, and lest we forget...there is ALWAYS back to school shopping to look forward to. But I'll save that rant for another day.
It probably sounds like I'm looking for sympathy, and yet I can still hear my dad's words echo, "Darlin' if you're looking for sympathy, you can find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis". Dad has a way with words. But I don't really want sympathy. I think I want empathy. I want someone to tell me that I'm not the only mom out there who has bent over backwards attempting to give my children the summer of their dreams only to realize that it's not enough. It will never be enough.
So, I count.
49 days 18 hours and 53 minutes.