There’s nothing quite like the long, lazy days of summer to drive a mom, well, mad. Once the novelty of leisurely mornings, ice cream sandwiches as a midmorning snack (oh, just me?), and sixteen hour days with your offspring wears off, the days can be quite relentless. And by relentless, I mean crazy-making. And by crazy-making I mean dreaming of nice men in white coats taking you away to a child-free Starbucks. So if you can eek out a few minutes for yourself, (forced or voluntary) may I suggest a game of Summer Mom-libs? They’re like Madlibs, but more materal (or less, if you’re like me).
First, you pick your own word for each of the categories below.
Number of kids
Gender of kid(s)
Length of time
Favorite TV show
Child’s favorite book
Favorite school month
Then, you insert your words into the story.
On a summer night after a day alone with my children, I am ready to verb the noun out of them with a garden tool. I love them dearly but, seriously, how can number gender of kid(s) make so much of a adjective noun and adjective noun Is it not enough that all day I play horrible game and irritating toy. Then they verb the house and verb the pets.
Would it kill them to verb some enviable attribute for length of time? Or let me watch an episode of favorite TV show with a glass of favorite beverage and a bowl of favorite snack? Or even activity without an audience for the first time in days? Sure the favorite toy kept them busy for a while but then there was noun-blowing psychiatric condition. They ate a snack of summer food, which kept them verb, but they ended up all adjective and running around like illegal drug addicts.
In summer the routine is shot to hell. Getting them to bathe and in bed is like wrestling lubricant-rubbed animal(s). If I have to read child’s favorite book or sing lullaby one more time I am going to lose my swear word mind. Is it favorite school month yet?
If you’re having a difficult time visualizing what this would look like finished, consider mine for some creative inspiration.
On a summer night after a day alone with my children, I am ready to beat the crap out of them with a rake. I love them dearly, but seriously, how can two boys make so much of a freaking mess and insane chaos? Is it not enough that all day I play Candy Land and Legos? Then they trash the house and harass the pets.
Would it kill them to show some compassion for five minutes? Or let me watch an episode of Animal Hoarders with a glass of pink wine and a bowl of Teddy Grahams? Or even shower without an audience for the first time in days? Sure the bubble guns kept them busy for a while but then there was mind-blowing insanity. They ate a snack of Popsicles, which kept them busy, but they ended up all sticky and running around like heroin addicts.
In summer the routine is shot to hell. Getting them to bathe and in bed is like wrestling bacon grease-rubbed monkeys. If I have to read Thomas the Tank Engine or sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star one more time I am going to lose my goddamn mind. Is it September yet?