Not All Summers are Created Equal

We went to an amusement park!  Just Kidding-it's a horse that you can ride for 1 cent at our grocery store-Happy Summer, Three Birds!

It's 2:00pm on Day 2 of our Summer Break and I am ready for a drink.  My older girls have classmates who are in England and Russia and Disney World and an all-inclusive resort in Mexico.  I have a friend who has already done 3,429 summer themed crafts with her kids.  They basically Martha Stuart-ed their entire house.  Another friend bought a boat.  Like a good one-with life-jackets and everything.  

It's hard not to be jealous of all of this.  Especially since our morning consisted of a visit to the chiropractor and a grocery store run.  My middle child spent a few minutes crying because the wrong Taylor Swift song was playing on the radio.  My oldest can't read ANY of her library books because she didn't realize they were all parts of a series and she (spoiler alert) didn't check out the first one.  Our summer is not going to include any passports or airplanes or actual French Champagne (however, the Kirkland's brand Prosecco from Costco isn't half bad.)  

Here's the thing.  I am actual very happy for all (o.k. most) of these people and their fancy vacations.  I am.  They are going to make some amazing memories and have some pretty cool experiences.  But that's not my summer.  Our "big deal" will be when I get motivated enough to pull out the sprinkler and let them run around in that for an afternoon.  We'll go bowling sometime, to a few parks, maybe do a craft or two, and visit my in-laws in New Jersey.  And I'm actually pretty excited about all of this.  

So to any of my friends who are feeling like their summer isn't filled with culture, excitement, flare, or expense...here's the thing: my kids are currently making the baby lay in the center of a blanket and rolling her up like a taco.  Taco Baby is laughing so hard she is tooting.  Your summer and my summer are going to have some moments where someone laughs so hard they toot.  And it's going to have moments where the radio is playing the wrong song.  Be strong, Mamas.  And get that Prosecco.  

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