As this summer draws to a close and I cheer that school will be back in session soon, I realize that we didn't really do shit this summer. Usually we take a "family vacation" to somewhere. Disney. Destin. Colorado. Somewhere! But, nada this year.
No pina coloadas pool side. No running around with mouse ear hats. No trekking up mountainsides. No zipping down roller-coasters. Nothing.
Instead, we worked. And, I chauffeured. A lot. I blame myself, though. It started with my constant nagging to the oldest spawn. Nag, nag, nag. I was all about "get your ass out there and find work!" and, "hell no, I'm not buying you those expensive ass jeans!" and, "how can you sleep until noon?!" and, "if you're not going to get a job that PAYS money, you will work for ME for FREE!"
It's that last nag that did me in, I guess. Because, what did she do? She got two damn jobs. And, she has no car and no driver's license. (She failed driver's education.)
So, there's that.
Then, there's the youngest spawn. That heifer is up in my face on a daily basis. From the moment she was conceived, she's given me grief. Horrible pregnancy, death-defying child birth, terrible 2's, 3's and 4's, not to mention the constant jabbering. The girl cannot keep her mouth shut to save her life.
Littlest Spawn: I've got a lot on my mind, Momma... I've got to get it out!
Me: No you don't. Keep that shit in and save it for your Dad!
But, no matter what I tell her, she can't be quiet. Even when she's alone and there's no one to talk to, she's busy running her mouth - singing songs, talking to people on the tv and whatnot.
So, when the opportunity to ship her off for a week presented itself, we were all over that shit! She was invited to spend a week in Florida with one of her friends. We let her go under one condition: that she call/text home at least 3 times a day. She agreed. So, we bought the little heifer a phone (after vowing that she wouldn't get one for another 2 years), loaded her up with swimsuits, sunscreen, bug spray and toothpaste, and sent her on her way!
Day 1 - she texted twice and called once.
Day 2 - I texted her three times and she replied with one-word answers:
- My Text: Hi, babycakes...what's shakin'?
- Her Text: nuthin
- My Text: How's it going? What are you doing?
- Her Text: good. having fun. gotta go.
It was enough to want to rip my eyes out. My kid is thousands of miles away and she doesn't even miss us?! WTF?! Turns out, I missed the little monster. Whodda thunk?
Day 3 - she called once, after not replying to 2 of my text messages.
Day 4 - I called and texted her all fucking day and she didn't reply until that evening with a "good night" phone call.
Day 5 - I called her.. I called her friend... I called her friend's mother... none of them were responding. Where was my baby? Was she ok? Did something happen? Something must have happened! I'm on the verge of sending Hubber down there to pick that lil heifer up and bring her home when my phone rings.
Littlest Spawn: Hi, Momma! I had a great day! We went to the beach and to the pool and I met a lot of new friends!
Me: Why didn't you get in touch with me all day? We had a deal. THREE times a day!
Littlest Spawn: Sorry! I forgot! But, I'm fine. I'll do better tomorrow. I promise.
But, she didn't do any better. Day 6 and 7 were the same. My stomach was in knots the entire week. And, I'm pretty sure I pulled most the hair out on the right side of my head. My sanity was worse off during that one week that she was gone than in all the other 12 weeks of summer combined!
The moral of the story is this:
Even though your kid gets on your last nerves with all their yammering, begging , whining, and simply just being... you will miss their snotty nosed asses when they're gone.
So, although my summer was a bust, I learned an important lesson: If my kids are going to have a fun summer vacation, it's going to be with me. We will either all go, or none of us will go and we will all suffer through a non-vacation together.