Every week I ask my kids for suggestions on a topic for this column and every week I am inundated with inappropriate suggestions, many of which inexplicably involve bathroom and hygiene matters. But this week when I asked, in addition to the topics I promise never to write about, I received an unexpected suggestion from my 6-year-old son.
“You should write about the thing that scares you the most,” Miles said.
“Hmmm, and what do you think that would that be, Miles?” I responded.
“You know,” he replied, “summer vacation.”
I had to laugh. I guess he must have heard me talking to one of my friends on the phone, lamenting about this week being the last week of school. The kids are so excited to be finished with another school year and I’m looking forward to all the activities I have planned for their summer vacation. But truth be told, I AM a little afraid of the kids being home 24/7 for the next 2 ½ months.
This is the first school year that all four of my children were in school and I have to admit, I have gotten quite used to my daily 7 hours of alone time. It’s amazing how full those 7 hours are with work, errands, cleaning and gym time. And now, to have all that taken away . . . it just seems a little cruel.
The kids haven’t been helping to ease my fears either. The arguing and bickering is at an all-time high right now and it seems impossible for one of them to walk through a room without trashing it.
There’s also apparently some household growth spurt going on because my kids cannot seem to go 20 minutes without eating. Along with constant eating comes a constant mess in the kitchen, not to mention a grocery bill that gets larger every week. I can only assume this food intake will increase with increased outdoor activity and food access.
So what does all this mean for me? Well, by my calculations, my clean and tidy house is going to be in shambles by the sixth hour of summer vacation and by day three, I will be ready to lose my mind.
At least I can take comfort in the knowledge that our 24/7 togetherness is temporary. Plus, after spending a little bit of time in Emily’s second grade classroom this past week, I feel a little guilty complaining at all.
I had asked to “borrow” the class for 20 minutes at the end of the day. I am preparing a scrapbook for Emily’s teachers as an end-of-year classroom gift and needed to get some final pictures of the kids. End of school day combined with end of school year. Really, I should have thought that one through a little more. Even with four kids, I am not experienced enough to handle this type of situation. Not to mention the fact that my crowd control skills have gotten a little soft after a whole school year of alone time.
The class seemed calm enough when I arrived. Every child was seated at his or her desk quietly working on a writing project. Quiet, discipline, order – it was a beautiful sight to behold.
But wouldn’t you know it, as soon as Ms. B handed the reins over to me and left the room, all hell broke loose. It’s like I was some poor, naive substitute teacher with a classroom of inner city kids on crack. Things went downhill pretty fast. I think the biggest problem is that I don’t have a particularly loud voice. Maybe things would have been different if I had brought in my megaphone.
“Kids! Stop! You’re going to kill yourselves!” I yelled to a couple boys who were literally climbing the desks. I don’t think anyone even heard me.
They may not have heard me, but Ms. B sure heard them. Within minutes, my rescuer appeared in the doorway.
“One, Two, Three, Eyes on Me!” she boldly boomed above the cacophony.
“One, Two, Eyes on You!” the kids replied. And then silence. The room was again quiet and the kids were seated, looking all cute and innocent and well-behaved.
Wow. She’s good. Maybe that’s a strategy I can use this summer when my own kids get out of hand. Or maybe, even better yet, Ms. B can just spend the summer with us.
Or maybe the key is to show no fear. I clearly can’t do that with a roomful of 20 kids. But with 4? I guess I’ve found my new summer mantra — No Fear . . . No Fear . . . No Fear. Bring it on, kids.







