It's been Hot and Humid here in Georgia, and I've been trying to survive summer by finding things for my kiddos to do. They have this little pool and slip 'n slide set up, but they can only seem to stay entertained with it for about 45 minutes before they want to come in out of the heat. And really, any longer than that and they will end up super duper sunburned, even with sunblock, because we are practically albinos. Well, Trever actually tends to tan pretty well, whereas I burn, peel and start over. And our kids are mostly someplace in the middle.
Except poor Dylan, who always burns and blisters, no matter what precautions we take: sunblock, special clothing, wide brimmed hats...
He's just like me. Red heads have it rough when it comes to fun in the sun.
Anyway, my philosophy is that having kids is a lot like having dogs: they need lots of fresh air and exersize or they break the furniture.
It's just hard to get your kids outside when it is 150 degrees and 200% humidity.
So I've been racking my brain, trying to find indoor activites that will keep them busy and simultaneously keep them from spending the entire summer watching the television or playing video games. Though I confess, we've done a good share of that as well.
Another confession: I am no domestic goddess.
I'm not even a domestic demigod.
I'm just a mom trying to keep play doh out of the carpet and crayon off the walls. A lot of times it feels like the laundry is never, ever going to get Done and that as soon as I'm finished getting one meal cleared up it's about time to start making the next one, and many, many times I think I am not doing the greatest job in the world at this whole mom thing.
And I really, really want to be a good mom.
Sometimes, I lie in bed at night, after all the kids are asleep, and I wonder if they all got hugged enough. I think about the day, about how much time I spent with each one, about the conversations we had, and I wonder if I'm screwing them up.
I wonder what they will think of their childhood when they are all grown up.
I wonder if one day they'll know how much I truly hated popsicles, but that I still bought them, for them, because they loved them so much. Or how I had to have war with their father to allow them things like crayons, silly putty and play doh- all of which he would be happy to never allow in the house, if he had his way, because they are such a mess.
Or whether they'll be parents themselves, with kids whose toys are so loud and annoying they fantasize about running them over with the car.
I wonder if they will ever understand how much I truly love bacon, and how it shows a tremendous amount of love for me to share it when little ones come up asking for bites of mine after they've eaten all of their own. Greedy little things.
And I'd really rather them remember me smiling, not yelling and angry.
So I am trying to smile more, yell less, and continue sharing my bacon. That, along with using a grip load of Mr Clean Erasers in order to clean my little Picasso's artwork off of our walls, is enough to keep me occupied for a while.
And in a nutshell, that's what's been going on here over the last couple weeks. Just to bring you up to date. :)