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Ahh summer, what’s not to love, sunny days, warm evenings, yet its bittersweet for me.  The up side is time off work, no school runs, lie ins, washing on the line, sunglasses (an instant fix for makeup free face), the aroma of freshly cut grass and a Mr Whippy 99.

As the words ‘I can’t stand this heat’ fall from my dry cracking lips, people either agree or react with utter disbelief: “What? How can you not like this weather? What’s wrong with you?”

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t HATE summer, just some things about it.  So, if you are one of those who love everything about summer please stop reading now,  you’ll only think I’m a whingy ‘ole mare.

If, like me, you are not one of those people then high five my friend please read on.

ITS ALL ABOUT THE CHECK-IN

As much as I love the nice weather, I do enjoy being indoors.  Summer hols are a time when, some days I simply just want to spend the day at home in my pjs, snacking and reading poetry……okay so I lie about the poetry, but recorded episodes of Nashville aren’t going to watch themselves.

Don’t get me wrong I love getting out, just not every single bloody day of the holiday.  It only takes a minute on Facebook to make you feel a bad parent because you aren’t out educating your kids and having fun?  Not sitting at home licking the Ben and Jerry’s tub clean!

Facebook is awash with people, everywhere showing us all where they are by ‘checking in’:

Betty is in Dull enjoying the history of luggage carousels………..and the kids are just loving it!

Mine all  practically have to be bribed to venture out anywhere with us, let alone visit some ‘cultural’ spot somewhere to spend a few hours ‘having fun’.

And then there is the embarassment for my teenage son, being seen in public with his parents, which is usually enough to put him off coming anywhere with us if it’s within a 5 mile radius of home.  Further afield is okay.

I tend to be choosy with my ‘check in’s’ and tagging my teenage kids in is NOT PERMITTED, this will result in threats to unfriend.

My summer hols FB page might read something like this:

  • Monday ‘check in’  Sharon is in her dining room, tweeting & ignoring her kids’.
  • Tuesday ‘check in’ ‘Sharon is at the beach, having fun convincing her kids they too are having fun.  Staged photos to follow.
  • Wednesday ‘check in’ sharon is educating her kids on the history of Chinese Culture at Wok You Like.

MY KIDS CAN’T SLEEP

Anything that interferes with Bedtimes is a bloody nightmare.  With school out for summer bedtimes are later, factor in nights of 100-degree humidity and four kids, there will be shit loads more whinging than normal.

Constant reshuffling of fans, ‘this fan is useless’, ‘that’s not my fan’, ‘I’m toooooo hotttttttt’ not enough sockets and crap positioning of the ones we have is another addition to the list of ‘reasons not to go to sleep’.

Don’t get me wrong, I love spending all this ‘extra’ time with my kids but I miss school nights, bedtimes are earlier and I get to spend uninterrupted time with my laptop hubbie.

IMG_2183BOOB SWEAT & HUMID HAIR

Boob sweat is uncomfortable and frizzy hair is not an attractive look.  Good hair days are very much dependent on weather conditions, which never seem to suit my mane.

When the sun is shining and I am indoor perfecting my hair, I always forget when humidity is at 70 percent+ it will play havoc with my hair.

All my hard work is undone the minute my foot makes contact with the outside world. By the time this summer chick reaches work and recoils in horror when catching myself in the mirror, my hair is a frizzy mess, my non-smudge mascara has totally smudged and I’m rocking the boiled lobster look.

WHAT THE HELL TO WEAR

All around mums rock the ‘out of a magazine’ look with not a bead of sweat dripping.  Whereas me, I look like I just left the gym after a gruelling session and I don’t even go to the gym.

I love jeans but always feel like the one person who wears them to the cries of ‘how can you wear them jeans in this weather”?

I cannot tell you how it feels if I do see someone else wearing jeans, I literally have to resist the urge to hi-five them.

Will I wear a dress? in which case I either brave it or a) subject the world to my transparent legs b) chance fake tan o un-prepped legs can’t be arsed with the prep work or c) fake it with natural tan tights?  Jeans it is then!

No matter what I wear, I either seem too have to many layers or not enough layers.  And when the heatwave hits I’m a sucker for rushing out to buy some ultra-cool strappy tops prompting the sudden end of the heatwave.

God only knows where the tops I bought last year go.  I know I have some as they pop up on ‘on this day’ last year posts on Facebook.

IT-DONT-WORK-ODRANT

24-hour antiperspirant, ‘no white mark’ = my arse.

SEASON OF SHAVING

IMG_2185Having enjoyed the winter off from shaving my legs its now back to this weekly ritual and finding tiny bits of tissue everywhere that have fallen of my legs,

I can no longer get away with just shaving the bit around my ankle, its all or nothing.  Not forgetting the one little patch of hair you didn’t see until you are out in public.

Can we all have a moment here for my poor hubbie who also suffers throughout summer with shaving.  The poor man ends up constantly ripping his face to bits, his words, because again I have used his razor leaving it blunts #dramatic.

DRIVING

One thing I hate most about driving and one my husband thinks I have a fear off, is Petrol Stations.  He believes I have a fear of filling the car with petrol.

Other things I hate about driving is:

  • Summer driving.
  • Getting into a car after its been sat, locked up in direct sunlight all day.
  • Sticking to the seats and back of knee sweat.
  • Putting the air conditioning on then obsessing over fuel consumption so switching it back off.
  • Opening the windows to let the warm air in.
  • Feeling the need to turn my ‘uncool’ music down at the traffic lights.

SUNCREAM APPLICATION

Let’s be honest, what parent enjoys putting sun cream on their kids?  I HATE it, whinging kids who don’t sit still is no fun.  Go within a millimetre of their eye area with the suncream and they react like you are about to poke them in the eye with a stick.

And then there is always the miniscule amount that makes it into their eye bringing any further application to an abrupt end.

Its up there with being the worst thing about summer for me.  School mornings are fraught enough without adding sun cream into the equation.  The worst thing of all is, I dont always send them into school with it on!  To my shame I admit:

  • I convince myself they are not outside long enough for it to matter.
  • It would have worn off before play time anyway!
  • er….err..um…mmm…actually I have no other excuse.

 THINGS THAT FLY

IMG_2190Our house is like a holiday destination for anything with wings.  Its a time when I literally become obsessed with windows, doors and lights being on or open.

At night blood curdling screams of ‘muuuuuuuuuummmmmmm there’s a wasp/man eating fly in my room’ can be heard throughout the neighbourhood and I’m up and down more times than a fiddlers elbow ridding their rooms of all winged intruders.

It’s a time when I battle with my conscience of: do I just squat it? Guide it out the window? or hunt down the fly spray and choke myself and the ozone layer depleting it?

It always leads me to reiterate the following, loudly.

  1. who let that bloody fly in?
  2. hurry up and shut that door before anything else gets in.
  3. ffs who left the bloody light on.
  4. who left the door open?
  5. what have i told you about leaving the light on?

THEME PARKS

Longer than you ever thought possible queues, whingy kids, blink and its over rides = tortuous enough said.

Anyone with me on this? Anyone………?

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‘Make sure you put the towels back when you’ve finished’ –  a simple request, you would think, yet oddly its a request my four cherubs have trouble in remembering!

Our House

The weird thing is that even though we all live under the same roof, use the same rooms and even walk the same internal floors, none of them ever even notice towels on floors…..more so their wet towels on any available floor space.

My tolerance to ‘things left on the floor’ over the years has dwindled considerably to the point I am now sadly, slightly obsessed with it.  Even with my constant complaining, loudly, about their lazy I’ll-do-later attitude, it makes no difference it merely falls on deaf ears, the same ears that never hear any ‘non-monetary parental requests’.

No matter how many times I ask them, remind them or just tell them in a loud voice, where the towels drop they stay, until such time where I can stand it no more, so either I pick them up or my hubbie does.

If I question them about their ‘fear’ of putting anything them back,  they start firing off one of the following lazy arse excuses:

  • I forgot.
  • That’s not my towel.
  • Well I didn’t use that one.
  • I didn’t hear you.
  • I’ve put it back.

Strangely, they have no problem in getting out clean, fluffy towels to join an already sufficient supply that awaits them.

Magic Towel

We even have a ‘magic’ towel,  the choice of my teenage daughter for wrapping her freshly washed locks in.

This ‘magic’ towel can remain steadfast on her head, duly following her round as she steps over any discarded items on the floor, when unbeknown to her, it will just simply disappear.

I know she is unaware of this phenomena as she never asks if anyone has seen her missing towel!  It just lays in a crumpled, heap waiting until such time when it will manifest itself, seen only by parental eyes!

So, it goes a bit like this in our house

After he’s (my teenage son) finished in the bathroom I usually give him, because I am a fair mum, ample time to dress, before checking he has put the towels back.  No prizes for guessing what the answer is!

Bubbling with towel frustration I burst into his room to remind him, loudly – “errr towels! don’t forget to pick ‘em up and put them back.”

With a slight pause and the look of a long-suffering parent, he shakes his head  – ‘I’ll do it (in a minute – see below), I need to finish this first’ whilst waving his finger in the direction of a random school book, clearly intended to give the impression he’s about to start his (homework – see below).

So to give him the benefit of the doubt, I leave reminding him of his towel duty.

‘Yes. Now can you get out my room?’

A couple of hours later he wanders in to the front room throwing himself on the sofa.

‘you alright mum?’ –

‘have you picked up your towels’ I reply.

‘not yet, but I will, stop going on – ‘

‘okay, but you said that about three hours ago and you still haven’t done it’.

Resisting the urge to echo ‘towel…now….ffs do it’ I just sit quietly chewing it over, until he interrupts my thoughts –

‘night, see you in the morning’ and as quick as he drops a towel, he’s gone.

Hot on his heels, I dash off to the bathroom where the floor is littered with……crumpled wet towels and (discarded clothes – see below).

Unable to contain myself, I storm into his room yelling

‘you didn’t pick up the towels!’

‘oh my god are you serious, you have actually burst into my room to shout at me about towels?’

Suddenly feeling all defensive and like a scolded child I remain adamant –

‘Well I’m not picking them up, they can wait there until you get up in the morning’, I lie

‘alright, chill out Mum!”.

Nodding mutely, I retreat back out, to the bathroom where I pick up the towels and………put them back.

Next morning, unsurprisingly there is no mention of towels.  He merely saunters in to the bathroom, without a care in the world, to wash and brush his teeth before wiping his mouth and throwing down another towel!

And so begins another day.

*Sigh*  I wonder if they have changed the toilet roll? brought their cups back to the kitchen? even put their empty wrappers in the bin? but then again how often do miracles happen!

Anyone else??

Reference

  • Homework          –              A task to be completed in haste on way to school NOT at home.
  • Yes, I Will            –              No I won’t.
  • In a minute         –              Not any time soon
  • Discarded Clothes –          Non exclusive – will belong to members of the family (usually under the age of 16)
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