Yes, it has only been one day of summer vacation and I can already see the writing on the wall.  The truth before me.  The reality busting through my perceived relaxation.

This is not going to be easy.

For weeks now I have been dreaming of relaxing on the bedtime battle, sleeping in – because surely they would be too – and peace and happiness.  I dreamed of my children frolicking in the yard as I fold my laundry within a week of doing it and thought smiles would replace frustrated, too much on our plate, frowns.

It took 24 hours for me to see the light.

And as my children woke one by one, 2 hours before I anticipated… despite the fact that all year I had to wake them… I saw that long needle come down from the sky and pop that bubble of hope, drenching me with the first lesson of the summer.

There will be no peace.

No quiet.

No easy days.

It started out well enough, I suppose.  I poured my coffee and got the lid on before the fighting started.  So at least my vice of choice was loaded and ready to clear the cobwebs of an interrupted night of sleep once again.

Therapy in hand, I separated the fighters and flipped on the television.  As The Cat in the Hat silenced the mini mob I sat down to relax for a moment with my liquid energy.

I thought it was great that I did not have to dress anyone, feed anyone IMMEDIATELY or they would be late, or brush three heads and sixty teeth right this minute.  And I relished in that I was not trying to find matching flip flops, any shirt that fit and my keys all at the same time.  Nor was I getting everyone buckled and running only a minute behind before I realized that it was a preschool day and Sarah needed a lunch.  And all I had was hot dogs and cheese sticks.

Just as I was thanking the Good Lord Above for the break, Megan screached, “I want miiiillllkkkk!” and jumped on me sending my caramel colored concoction of happiness all over myself and my couch.

And here we went.

The highlight of the day was trying to take one hour to complete a post for a sponsor that should have taken less than an hour.  But between the fights, “Mommy, I want ________!”, “Mommy I need _______!” and “Mommy ________ is hitting me/ scratching me/ sitting on me/ pulling my hair/ selling me on Ebay – OK. I made the last one up.- it took four hours.

Four. Long. Excruciating. When does school start? Hours.

The rest of the day consisted of me trying to fold the clothes (still not done), trying to do the dishes (80% done), bathing them twice (suntan lotion is not a toy), and answering for the 875th time why they could not get a sticker on their Good Girl Goodie Chart for simply walking across the room and asking me for one.

I am exhausted.

And it is day one.

Of ninety.

Now, I know it will get better.  We will settle into a routine.  Summer activities will take over and I will sell my eggs to pay for summer camps that get them out of my house valuable summer memories to look back on fondly one day.

But until the smoothness sets in I just have to admit that I was naive.  The Summer Motherhood is a Whole New Game.

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