I’m often amazed at the level of subterfuge Mothers go through to endure. Since summer break began survival mode kicked in. It’s enough that I have to give up my peace for the constant pattering of feet, but now I’m pestered with requests. We’ve worked past “I’m bored” with threats to clean despicable places and progressed to “When can I?”
In preparation for the long summer days, I booked our daughters into summer movies, play dates in the park and each has a summer class. Between that and meal time, I insist that they find something to do. The problem is their idea versus mine.
I think the pile of toys and neighbor kids as adequate entertainment, but they have come up with requests, usually “take me somewhere”. When they ask when the next time they can go ______, I’ve turned into a recorder and say “Some time.” Noncommittal is my defense. Unfortunately I only get away with it half of the time. They shrug and walk away or torment me for a specific time. Then I pull out the guns—“I’m not sure when.”
It’s only been a week. Can I survive? How do mothers endure? Must we resort to lying and dodging? I’m determined to be strong. There must be a line between caring for our children and being their source of entertainment. I once read “If a mother’s place is in the home, why am I always in the car.” I will fight that scenario. Oh, to have lived ages past when kids were self entertained…