Summer, summer, summer

Everyone loves summer, right? Just the word itself conjures up images of warm, lazy days spent barefoot in the grass or on the beach. A lack of responsibility, of deadlines, of snow.

Take this picture for instance: A young couple walking together in the sand. They look carefree, happy, relaxed. To me it represents the ideal of summer. And yet, it also makes me wonder:

Do they have a mortgage and where is the four year old?

My summer has been less-than-relaxing. As a mother I should expect this, but each Spring I convince myself that this summer is going to be different. This summer we are going to read and do workbooks and play games together and get along.

Yeah, right.

This afternoon about twenty different people asked me to do forty different things in thirty minutes. In the background, Spencer kept asking, "Can I have a peanut butter sandwich and some grapes?" I said, "Yes, just let me do one thing." I then watered the plants (they were withering badly), got the mail ("Kristen, this check must go out today!"), wrote a thank you note (where are the stamps?!), answered the door (Oh good, five boxes of sacrament cups), ran down the street to see a neighbor ("Are you feeling better?"), fielded phone calls for Carter ("No, he's at Ryan's"), Chelsea ("I think she's with Carly"), Tyler ("Yes, I'll tell him you'll be over around 3:30pm), and looked scornfully at the piano that I have yet to practice today.

At some point, Spencer became indignant and wailed: "Where is my sandwich!?" I apologized and quickly made him a PBJ and set it on the counter. Then I swept the floor (for the fourth time), answered the phone (again), and picked up Bryce (who had fallen on a hot wheel). Just then Spencer came over, looked disdainfully at his plate and yelled, "There are no grapes here!"

I must tell you it took every ounce of maternal instinct not to pick up the plate and throw it and all its contents out the patio door (which happened to have been left open in the 102 degree heat). Instead I said the one thing the spirit has whispered to me many times, which was, "What do you think would be a better response?" He smiled sheepishly and said, "Please, may I have some grapes?"

I decided that I needed a break, so now I am blogging and laughing (at all of your blogs -- I love them!) The messy basement/kitchen/laundry will have to wait while I regroup. And, I suppose in the end, the concept of "summer" is not so much a season, but a state of mind. Unfortunately, the sand under my feet is very real. And I am in my office.