As summer gradually fades, the days grow shorter, and the aisles at Target are overflowing with back-to-school supplies. My inbox is inundated with messages about drop-off rules, ice cream socials, and after-school programs. Yes, parents, summer break is winding down.
And you know what? I’m actually looking forward to it.
That summer magic? I’m over it. Completely.
In May, I had those dreamy, rose-colored visions of endless summer days. Back when the thought of another school concert or PTA meeting made me cringe, and when school lunches were nothing but bologna sandwiches on stale bread. At that time, the idea of summer felt like paradise.
I imagined lazy mornings in our pajamas, spontaneous picnics, and afternoons at the pool. I pictured my kids biking with friends, running lemonade stands, and playing hide-and-seek until the stars came out. I looked forward to family dinners on the patio and late-night ice cream runs, free from the burden of homework and reading logs.
But then the reality of the so-called “summer vacation” hit me like a ton of bricks.
Instead of packing one lunch each day, I found myself preparing and cleaning up around 37 snacks daily. Instead of sorting through backpacks, I was left to pick up wet towels, turned-inside-out swimsuits, and smelly sandals all day long. And rather than solving homework disputes, I was breaking up sibling skirmishes over who touched whom first or who devoured the last ice cream sandwich.
Our mornings? Not lazy. More like the crack of dawn. Surprise! Kids don’t sleep in when the sun is shining. A lemonade stand translates to a sticky kitchen filled with kids guzzling sugary drinks instead of selling them. Staying up late for ghost games means grumpy kids who haven’t mastered the art of sleeping in. Dining outdoors invites mosquitoes and bee stings.
What my kids seem to enjoy during summer? Screaming, whining, and bickering. Oh, and letting the door swing wide open.
Honestly, I’m done with it all.
I’m fed up with the wet towels, the sticky surfaces, and the chaos that seems to multiply by the minute. I’m over the late nights and the early mornings. I’m tired of the noise—oh, the noise!—that never seems to cease. I’m done wrestling my kids at the pool while trying to apply a thin layer of sunscreen. I’m sick of constant snack requests and the crumbs left behind. And I’m definitely over reminding them to shut the door every 5.3 minutes.
A few weeks ago, my kids attended a one-week day camp. Every day, I dropped them off at 9 a.m. and didn’t see their sweet little faces until 3 p.m. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was the best week ever. I could hear my own thoughts! I took uninterrupted showers without screams echoing from downstairs about a Kindle Fire mishap. I worked during normal hours, and I even managed to talk to my mom without saying “hold on” a million times while breaking up fights. I enjoyed lunches that didn’t consist of crusts leftover from their sandwiches. It was pure bliss.
For one glorious week, my kids were cared for by someone else. And I remembered, oh yeah, this is what the school year feels like. Back in May, I was complaining about school lunches and homework supervision without realizing how good I had it. To all the teachers out there, I salute you. You deserve every award, every dollar, and all the accolades for managing these loud, whiny, little monsters for six hours a day. You are like mythical figures or superheroes. Seriously, do you hide your capes under your cardigans?
Current situation: One child is wailing at another over a ruined pillow fort. A half-eaten bowl of Goldfish crackers is on the counter while another child howls for a different snack in another bowl. Wet towels and inside-out swimsuits have created a mountain in the kitchen. I can barely think over the cacophony of screams, whining, and a television blaring some obnoxious tween show. Everything is wet and sticky.
I’m over it. So very over it.
There are only 4 weeks, 6 days, and 19 hours until the kids head back to school. But who’s counting?
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Summary:
The article humorously discusses the frustrations of summer break from a parent’s perspective, highlighting the contrast between idyllic summer dreams and the chaotic reality of juggling kids’ activities. The piece concludes with a longing for the structure of the school year while acknowledging the joys and challenges of parenting.
