In just a couple of weeks, my boys, who I’ve missed terribly this school year, will finally be home for the summer, both of them smiling, happy and totally excited to spend each and every waking moment with their adoring mother.
I cannot let that happen.
Oh, sure, our summers always start off well. We swim, we play, we picnic. We’re practically the unpaid poster children for Target’s “Summer Is Awesome!” campaign. But by the time August blazes in, things have changed. Dramatically. Now we’re hot, we’re tired, we’re crabby and the only poster that would possibly even consider putting our picture on it is probably hanging in the Department of Mental Health. It’s not pretty.
By the end of last summer, when it was so hot outside that you could burn your hand on a plant if you weren’t careful, we’d been stuck inside the house so much that the boys were bouncing off the walls. Literally. I mean, how someone can think that the best way to get the book they want out of the bookcase is to jump off of the couch and crash, arms outstretched, into said bookcase is beyond me. It really is.
When they weren’t bouncing off the walls, Sam and Jack had decided to spend the last few days of their precious vacation time embroiled in what was by now their favorite activity: fighting. While they usually get along really well, they’d somehow suddenly turned into a bitter, middle-aged couple on the brink of divorce. Our house was like the set of a preschooler remake of The War of the Roses.
Sam would say, “I like this purple crayon.”
Jack would instantly counter with, “No, you DON’T LIKE IT!”
Sam, slowly licking the crayon, would then reply, “Oh, yeah, I do. It’s my faaa-vvv-orite crayon.”
Jack then completely snaps and leaps on Sam like a Croc-wearing jungle cat, grabbing for the crayon while simultaneously pulling Sam’s hair and screaming, “STOP IT! THAT’S MY CRAYON! STOP LICKING DA PURPLE! MOMMY! HE’S LICKING MY PURPLE CRAYYYYONNN!”
To which Sam, the crown prince of self-preservation, would then calmly respond, “No, I’m not, mommy. I was just cleaning it for him.”
At this point, Jack’s had enough of this bullshit and decides to finish the discussion Russell Crowe-style by whacking the crap out of Sam’s foot with something perfect for the job, like a glue bottle with a loose cap, thereby causing Sam to dramatically wail “OW OW OW!!” while he holds The Most Amazing Purple Crayon Ever Made In The History Of Amazing Purple Crayons over his head like it’s the world heavyweight championship belt.
Oy.
This is usually when I can no longer pretend I can’t hear them because I know the neighbors down the street are probably in the process of calling for an emergency vehicle, so I have to reluctantly stop checking my e-mail and stomp upstairs to throw down some mommy justice. I barge into the playroom, pull them apart and oh-so-calmly point out that the crayon box right in front of them has no less than five purple crayons just sitting there, hell-ooo?, but by then they’ve already moved on to something much more pressing like “Dis is my empty Ziploc bag, you sucka!” and the psycho preschooler beach party starts all over again. It’s just like living in the Fox News studio, only with slightly better haircuts.
So right now, I’m in the process of making plans to ensure that this summer will be different. Yep, this August, we won’t be holed up inside the house like a bunch of pale survivalists waiting for our spaceship to arrive. Instead, we’ll be traveling. Going to camp. Taking so many swimming lessons that our hair will be the color of spinach by the time we’re done. And, honestly, I think that all of that will definitely keep the boys from fighting this summer. I really do. But just in case it doesn’t, I’m going to destroy every purple crayon I can get my hands on.
gee… maybe this summer you could film all that going down and use it to scare teen mothers into not having children.
Personally, I love the purple crayon.
Currently, my girls are fighting over whose hair is the yellowest. Also, whose twirl more resembles the bestest ballerina.
When you have girls, they always argue over refined things like the ballet before smashing the crap out of each other.
I hate August.
My teenaged spawn tend to leave marks on each other and are no longer afraid to engage in mortal combat in front of me. In fact, lately they even advanced their warfare to include stealth tactics and mêlée attacks.
Wendi, Wendi, Wendi, no matter how many activities you have planned for the summer, by the time July 21st rolls around, someone will have lost an eye or (if your lucky) chipped a tooth.
p.s. I’ve recently removed the eskrima, bō, and sai so the spawn no longer have access to them…….just me! Hieeeeeeeee YA!!!
Two years ago I thought we’d have “nice relaxing summer” without anything to do. Bad idea. Now they are signed up for anything and everything I can find. Safety City, day camp, science classes, you name it. I think I’ll see less of them than I do in the school years.
Oh GREAT. Now I have to figure out what kind of wine goes best with purple crayon. Thanks a lot, SAM.
that was the one advantage to having an only…Although i had to be on the other side of ALL his conversations, I did not have to endure listening to fighting!
War of the Roses reference – awesome.
Posting on a Thursday instead of a Monday – awesomer.
My younger daughter’s preschool runs all summer, so she’ll be out of my hair every morning. My older daughter, though, will be here. I’m sure by 10 am every day I’ll have heard the litany of how summer is so booorrringgg. Two sessions of rock climbing camp and one cooking class at Central Market may not be enough to keep her amused.
substitute “minnesota winter” for “texas summer” and “anything emblazoned with hello kitty” for “purple crayon” and that’s our life.
my favorite was when my girls got into a knock-down, drag-out about who would sleep with genevieve that night. genevieve does not exist; she’s a fictional dog in a children’s book. but a little detail like that didn’t stop the girls from trying to eliminate each other over genevieve’s affections.
Freakin’ hilarious. Psycho Preschool beach party – perfect description…and I love the crayon licking. So glad to have found this blog and can’t wait to read though more…
Marking August on my calendar….”check Wendi’s blog for signs of sanity.”
Poster child for unplanned, but sometimes fortunate, one-child-families.
Why destroy all the purple crayons? Just sit them down and lick the crayons in front of the boys. It’s “mommy spit” and it’s bound to gross them out so they won’t care where the crayons are.
You are a smart cookie. I, too, love the “War of the Roses” reference.
But I’m confused. Are you going to camp too?
Dis is my empty Ziploc, bag, sucka! Where do you come up with this stuff? It sums it up so perfectly, doesn’t it? Too funny!
I’m a little afraid too. I have activities planned, but not nearly enough. That’s why I shell out big dollars for a ‘year round’ membership to a pool. Now that my children are older, I can actually almost sleep there. And they’re way too tired when we get home to fight. Much.
Yah, uh, good luck with that.
Now that my fourteen year old daughter is old enough to stay home with my 9 nine year old son, and neither of them can drive (there is a God), they will be the first ones to tell you how deprived they are because they are literally stuck home, together, all summer. And since Dad and I both work all day, we don’t have to hear the fallout. Perfect planning.
-Candy McD
OMG! I laughed out loud when I got to the part about you tearing yourself away from checking your email to check on the kids- that is so me sometimes. My little ones are still fairly young so I am never without them for very long. Summer will just be a continuation of that.
Have you never heard of summer camp or summer boarding school or legal adoption for profit?
I am so broke right now from signing my two little ones up for camps this summer. But it is a must. Otherwise, all they would do is fight and I would have to go to the loony bin.
Have you ever been to Schliterbaun (sp?) I think it’s close to your neck-o-the continent. Any opiniond on ages, cost, accommodation…?
Thanks!
elizabutt
Elizabutt–Haven’t been to Schliterbahn, but I know it’s in San Marcos, TX or New Braunfels, TX and people seem to like it. You’d probably want to stay in either San Antonio or Austin.
Wendi,
I have just discovered you after someone forwarded your “Always” letter. You know the one I meean. As soon as I got done paper-toweling off my keyboard from my sprayed hot tea I had to write my first blogger fan letter.
I am on deadline but am still stuck here, perusing my way through your 2007 life. Thanks for that.
Lisa
Love your blog! The crayon story brought me right back to my childhood. We would have a bowl of icecream for dessert each night…of course my sister and I always fought as to who got the biggest bowl…she would spit on which ever helping was the biggest, and call it her’s. Swear to god. I’m sure that is probably why I don’t remember my mom sitting at the table after the main course was done.
LOL about the Croc wearing jungle cat! I found you through a babycenter.com board that linked to your swim suit post. Sooooo glad I looked it up. You’re a hoot and I’ll definitely be adding you to my list of daily visits.
When can I come over and share a latte with you?! (OK, not exactly share – you’ll have to get your own) This is hilarious stuff – don’t stop!
Now that the tears have subsided, and my 12 year old realizes i am neither drunk nor high i can comment on this post.
Bloody brilliant!
I will look forward to hearing how things went,