I couldn’t wait for school to be out in May. I was really excited about our summer plans. Overall, it’s been good. We went some places. We saw some stuff. We did some things. But now… now it’s time for the kid to go back to his regularly scheduled day storage because the situation here is deteriorating rapidly.
We have one more week of summer. We’ve lost all structure. Grand plans have been tossed aside. My kid has gone feral in this house. He watches TV and plays video games WAY more than he should. He eats entirely too much sugar. I know because I keep finding food wrappers in the living room, not because I’m bothering to actually feed the kid at regular intervals. Baths are sorta regular, but not really.
I’m so over it, I can’t even work up a proper amount of mom guilt for this state of affairs right now.
He’s ready to go back to school. The class lists have come out. He’s pretty excited about his teacher and classmates. And it’s time for him to start spending his days with them. We are officially in back-to-school madness. Technically, the madness is just in my own head…as most madness reported here usually is.
I gave up the dream that he would ever be as excited to buy school supplies as I once was… fine, still am. So I ordered everything online. Last year, I had to bribe him with Legos to go to Target to get his stuff. He honestly doesn’t care about pencil boxes and crayons. I die a little inside when he says stuff like that. How can a person not LOVE school supplies?!?! My kid ain’t right.
I ordered him a Batman lunch box and backpack. Since he saw the Lego movie, he will.not.shut.up. about how awesome Batman is. I was super excited to tell him. He sighed. The child actually exhaled breath as to indicate his disgust with me. “Mooooom, I don’t want a Batman backpack and lunch box. I want a Ninja backpack and lunch box.” I told him he can live the pain of this disappointment because I already had his name monogrammed on it, and you can’t return that.
He desperately needs some more clothes. My hand to God, last week his clothes fit him. This week, EVERYTHING is too small. We’re down to two pair of acceptable shorts. We will not discuss his appearance for the past few days. He looks like a street urchin.
I’m going to have to take him to the store and make him try on clothes. There is no possible way it will end well. I predict I will once again be that mom “whispering” threats so loudly that other people can hear them about the dire consequences that will ensue if he doesn’t straighten up and act like he’s been somewhere before. The dread of this particular errand is why he looks so pitiful.
I have become the mother I used to judge. “How hard can it really be to plan some summer activities?” thought I, when I was young, stupid and childless. Because you know what? It’s really freaking hard! “There is no reason for children to spend that much time in front of a TV.” Oh, yes there is. The reason is sanity! My sanity. I need just some part of my day to actually accomplish things with out someone saying, “Hey Mama! Hey Mama! Hey Mama!” four thousand times.
To the mothers who I once rolled my eyes in your direction when your kid had forage for pop tarts for breakfast, again, my most profound apologies. I had no idea. None. I was naive and ignorant.
To the mothers who are still blogging about the wonderful time they’re having with their kids… the ones trying to squeeze every last happy second out of their time together… YOU’RE NOT FOOLING ANYBODY! We know that you’re either lying or on much better medication than the rest of us.
To my kid’s soon to be second grade teacher, good luck and bless you.