When you're a kid, you always look forward to summer. It's a hallowed time. It feels like you can spend your time as you wish...it feels free. It seems like there are exciting, new things just around the corner. Even if you had nothing better to do than lounge around all day, it was great, because you COULD. I'm wondering when I lost that feeling? I'm starting to think that is probably NOT how my mother felt about it...because I'm dreading it.
We are a full week away from summer break, and I already feel the weighty oppression of time and expectation. It's not yet 8 am, and I already have whiny, bored children hanging off of me. Since when did "Entertainer of the Year" become part of my job description? What will happen when we add two more children to the mix when school officially ends? We have a few weekend visits planned, but no grand vacations to look forward to...
I'm not looking forward to the complaining when the grandeur of summer freedom fades, and they suddenly discover boredom. I don't have a plan or strategy in place to combat this formidable foe! I must either come up with something creative soon or accept the eventual annihilation of our playroom...or more likely, our home, as the disbursement of toys throughout the house creates a great black hole of chaos from which we may never recover! I'm tired just thinking about it. Preventing the impending self destruction could take all the hours in the day...and that doesn't include the seemingly too-few hours I spend with each child. How to do what is needed as well as, when possible, what is wanted? Lord, grant me patience, or I'm going to be the first one sucked in!
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