I have big plans for the summer. I want to have slumber parties with my niece and nephew and day-long visits with my mom without having to rush home for pick-up. I'm signing the kids up for music and soccer classes. I'm planning to enjoy the splash pads at every playground in town and, with four playgrounds in my neighborhood alone, we'll be busy! I want us all to laze around in pajamas some days and have play-dates with some of my favorite mom friends and their kids on other days. I plan on taking the ferry to Manhattan playgrounds and kids' museums too. I want the kids to help me cook and I want to potty train Munchkin, though not at the same time.
I'm pretty sure I was excited about summertime as a kid and how I feel now is comparable. The overriding thought is, "I get to stay home with my kids." I know that when my kids are older, I'll have a full-time job and instead of dreaming of playtime fun, I'll have to worry about summer camps, babysitters and making the most of vacation days. Soon enough my kids won't want to hang out with me and instead will dump me for their friends. Soon enough, there will be summer school, sports camp or traveling soccer teams to worry about. But for now, I get to be home with the kids. I get to plan some fun stuff and I get to cuddle with my kids all day. Sure, they'll drive me crazy and I may pull out my hair, but summer is here and we are going to make the most of it.
*I can hear my neighbor, mother of five kids, laughing at the thought of being stressed about managing two kids for a pidly two months.