Fight. Eat. Fight. A Summer Survival Story.

Y’all… if someone asked me to describe our summer schedule, I could do it in three words:

Fight. Eat. Fight.

That’s it.  That’s the schedule.

We only had two weeks of camps this summer, so the rest has been Mama’s Daily Mission to Keep Tiny Humans Occupied.

Every morning, I wake up full of hope.

“Today will be different.” Bless my optimistic little heart.

We read together for a while.  They actually enjoy that part.

Then they head to the pool where they swim, splash, laugh… and then somehow end up arguing over who splashed who first.

Back inside we go, and I spend fifteen minutes convincing them that one or two worksheets will not, in fact, ruin their childhood.

Then it’s off to the playroom, where I hear things like:

“She looked at me.”

“She touched my toy.”

“She breathed too loud.”

I’m convinced siblings can turn absolutely anything into an Olympic event.

Later comes the daily debate over what to watch.

One wants Bluey.

One wants something else.

Neither wants to compromise.

By bedtime, I’m negotiating pajamas like I’m working a high stakes peace treaty.

And somehow… somehow… it’s already almost the middle of July.

I’m shopping for school clothes, comparing backpack prices, and hunting down school supplies while my girls are already talking about Fall Break in September, Halloween costumes in October, and how excited they are for their November and December birthdays.

Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out where June went.

Does motherhood ever feel caught up?

Because every time I think I’ve finally found my rhythm, the calendar flips another page.

I’ve decided maybe that’s just how this season works.  We spend our days juggling snack requests, sibling squabbles, laundry mountains, sunscreen, bedtime battles, and wondering how these babies keep growing while we’re busy looking for missing goggles.

So if your house also sounds like a referee’s whistle all day long, you’re in good company.  Some days you just have to laugh, hand everyone another snack, hide in the pantry with a piece of chocolate for two minutes, and keep going.

One day we’ll probably miss this loud, messy, wonderfully chaotic season.  Today… I’d just settle for five consecutive minutes without hearing, “Mooooom… she started it!”

You’re not alone, mama.  We’re all just doing our best, one snack, one argument, and one summer day at a time.

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