Goats Are Jerks (and Other Summertime Lessons)
Have you ever read something and felt an instant connection to the writer? That's how I felt the first time I encountered something written by Hannah Mayer. I want to
stalk her be BFFs. She makes me laugh to the point of hoping that all the ab contractions give me a six-pack. And her super-hilarious blog, sKIDmarks, features the word "shart" on the front page ... so we're obviously kindred spirits. I'm insanely excited that she's guest-posting on my blog today, because I know you guys will love her as much as I do. (And PS - after you're done reading this, click on the "Giveaways and Reviews" tab at the top because I've got a brand-new giveaway going on! Yay!)
Fed Selfish Goats Who Are Jerks And Only Think Of Themselves
(and other things I did this summer break)
by Hannah Mayer
When I was in elementary school, day one was usually kicked off with a “What I Did On My Summer Vacation”-type essay.
We might as well have been assigned to stand in a line and kick each other in the balls.
Forcing already depressed kids to painfully recount how their days spent reveling in carefree bliss are a thing of the past and it's going to be nine long months until they see a playground again is just straight up cruel. It's like forcing someone to write a 300-word essay on everything they loved about their arms right after they had to be amputated.
Oh, you rode a roller coaster? Played baseball until dark? Went to the beach on vacation? That sounds like it was tons of fun! Now we're going to talk about math for three hours.
I was always embarrassed to tell the truth about what I did on my summer vacations – stay up late watching Critters and eating Bacos - so my essays were a pile of embellishment, turning boring everyday activities into fascinating adventures to try to justify the value of my own life, become popular and (if I got really lucky) make friends.
And lo, a blogger was born.
Now, as an adult with three little kids, the beginning of school signifies the opposite of what it used to – the return of my personal freedom. Reading what I did over my summer break is like reading the Declaration of Independence. Reminding myself of the hell I went through to get to the fall makes shopping by myself at TJ Maxx while the kids are in school all that much sweeter.
WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER BREAK
Visited a Petting Zoo
My summer was kicked off with the gusto and enthusiasm of a robin chasing a locust, partly as a result of being cooped up from the long and especially cold winter and partly because Skinny Girl Pina Coladas were on clearance at the drug store the whole month of May.
Our first week together I took my kids to a petting zoo. We bought little baby bottles filled with milk and excitedly entered the goat pen. Despite the fact we were holding their life endowing sustenance, they turned against us. A stampede ensued and we were trampled by dozens of tiny cloven hooves. I grabbed my 2-year-old and used my 5-year-old as a human shield. My 3-year-old was left behind to fend for herself. She had been throwing a fit earlier and I was already mentally prepared to cut ties with her.
We finally were able to break through the herd and make a narrow escape, though not unscathed. My 3-year-old is going to need therapy and my Ann Taylor (Loft... Outlet... but still) shorts were burned after we arrived home.
De-Flowered At A Water Park
“Go down the speed slide,” They said.
“It'll be fun,” They said.
There are certain events in your life so profound, so important, that they actually become mile markers for your memories.
-Marriage or divorce
-Birth of a child
-Death of a loved one
-Beginning or ending a job
For me, I can now add “incident on the yellow speed slide” to my monumental life list.
Wanting to demonstrate my bravery and overall awesomeness to my kids, and everyone around, by being the cool 37-year-old Mom to go down the speed slide among the droves of teenage boys, I agreed.
I hit the water like a bullet. A bullet with its legs splayed wide open, simultaneously giving myself an enema/episiotomy combo upon contact with the pool.
Also the water hit me so fast that it tore through my nasal cavity and rocketed straight to my brain.
“Ooooh!! SOMETHING... RIPPED! AND WHAT'S COMING OUT OF MY BUTT?” I yelled at the teenage lifeguard standing before me as I grabbed my crotch with one hand and my nose with the other, hobbling off to the bathroom like a monster escaping an angry mob.
I sat in the stall, seeing double, attempting to repair my front and back doors the best I knew how as my husband yelled nervously from the doorway, “Ummm... everything okay in there?”
No. No it wasn't.
Hosted A Neighborhood Garage Sale
Garage sales are a great way to rid your home of unwanted clutter while making a little bit of spending cash. I worked around the clock for three entire weeks cleaning out closets and basements and garages, and stickering hundreds of items in the sweltering summer heat of my garage.
The day finally came for the big sale. It started at 7; I set my alarm for 5:15 to make sure I was ready for the crowds to descend and spend large quantities of money on all of my unwanted trash.
I stepped outside and it was pouring rain. After five hours I made $66. Which, after the classified ad, signs, balloons, stickers, and Starbucks netted a total of -$4.56. I also had some woman in my garage who told me I was a cat in my past life. She may still be out there.
Never. Ever. Again.
In conclusion, the summer of 2014 was filled with lots and lots of time (some quality, some 'other') with my awesome kids. And, despite it being really hard and a lot more work than I'm usually willing to invest in anything, I know there are only so many we get to spend together before they're off into the world.