Monkey's school ends in three--count'em: 1, 2, 3--days. I know I should be worried about having both kids with me full-time and concerned about maintaining my sanity* for the next two months. I should smack my head in preparation for the tedium and boredom that comes with long hot days stretching in front of me. Instead I'm excited. I'm happy because after hearing Monkey say he wanted to stay home during the school year, I can finally say, "Yes, you're staying home!" I'm delighted because I don't have to pack lunches for two months. Jubilant because I don't have to get both kids dressed, fed and out the door at 7:45 every morning. To top it off, the kids have been sleeping in (by which I mean, sleeping until 7am) for the last three days which means that maybe, just maybe, I can peacefully sleep past 6am on a regular basis.
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.
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.
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