Summer. My favorite time of year. Long days spent outside. Hiking. Biking. Camping. Lazing at the pool. Seeing friends. Staying up late. Sleeping in late. It's all so magical. Well, it is, if you're a kid. But, if you're a parent, you know there ain't nuthin' lazy about summer. Except your kid. (Or maybe it's just mine.)
Because in order to make this magical, lazy summer happen, I'm the freakin' Wizard of Oz behind the curtain in charge of making a horse of a different color. My kids have no clue what I do all day. So when summer rolls around, there is always the disappointment about a month in that even though it's summer, the bills still need to be paid and the floors still need to be cleaned.
And it's painful.
For all of us.
Because you see, I'm lazy too.
Oh, I want my kids to know all the work and choices that go along with being an adult. I want them to know what a pain in the ass it is to call the state tax office to clear up the states mistake they made sending you a late payment bill. (Turns out they weren't wrong after all. Oops.)
I want them to share in the pain of waiting at the DMV with me. (Which was the shortest line in a DMV EVER. Then, I didn't have the right paperwork after all.)
I want them to know where their food comes from and that all that organic nutritional food I serve them is the best fuel for their bodies. (And really freakin' expensive, so they better freakin' eat it.)
I want my kids to see me reading a good book and writing my own stuff. (And forging through the fact that I can get very intimidated to write after reading a good book. Although in a sick twist, reading a crappy book totally inspires me.)
I want them to see me deposit money in the bank and know that I'm saving for our future. (Even though all they want to see, still, is the big vacuum tube at the drive-thru.)
I want them to see me work out and know that I make a choice every day to keep it strong and healthy. (Or so I thought.)
I want them to know all this and so much more. In theory of course. Because in reality, all these endless explanations about taxes and why it's illegal that they touch a bottle of liquor in the liquor store are completely exhausting. Not to mention really, really frustrating. Because I'm really lazy at heart. And even though I try, really try to be patient on a daily basis. I am not by nature a patient person.
So, when I get up for my morning work out, which over the summer consists of a lot of Jillian Michaels dvds, I'm proud I got off my lazy ass to do it. And that I can spend the rest of the day resting on my laurels. Or haunches. Or beach chair. Whatever.
Last week when I was kick boxing with Jillian. And she insisted, "This is you time, baby." Right when I was sending her the telepathic message, "Then YOU would shut up!" My girls walk in. Crap. "Good Morning", trying my best cheerful voice whilst I'm dripping with sweat and pretending I'm kicking Jillian Michaels in the face with my foot. I'm trying to keep it all together.
But, you know how if you whack your head on something. Like really, really hard. And you're instantly enraged and you can't even help it. That's what happened when my daughter studied Jillian, looked back at me and informed me, "You're not doing that right."
Then I started.
"You do it then! This is harder than it looks you know!"
That's the abbreviated version of my tirade anyhow.
And this is when I made a new rule. Oh, I will take them to the dmv. I will make them hike 5 miles uphill. I will teach them how to do our taxes so they don't get screwed up again. I don't care. But they just can not under any circumstances watch me do a Jillian Michaels dvd again. Ever.
Lazy days of summer, my ass.