We have officially been doing the summer routine, or lack there of it, for 3 weeks now. My kids and their no-school status are kicking my ass. There I said it, I'm Perrin and summer and my kids are kicking my ass and living to laugh about it, probably behind my back. Don't get me wrong, I love summer even more than that average gal. I have been pining away for summer since Christmas. I guess I hadn't really thought about the fact that having the 6 year old in school being entertained by darling little Kindergarten teacher for 7 hours each and every day was as good as prozac for my personal mental health.
All in all, it really isn't her fault. She is as stunned by the lack of routine and sudden onslaught of ridiculously serious swimming lessons as I am having to entertain 2 fighting children 27 hours each and every day. Long gone are the days when Ava would look up at me and state that she truly loved little Olivia because she was the sweetest little sister you could possibly order up from the great nation of China.
My darling sweet tempered Liv, is dealing with the change in routine with a complete personality turnaround only to be rivaled by Sybil herself. Liv now gets my attention by pulling the dog's tail with one hand and sticking her fist in the dog's mouth with the other. Then, in an impressive display of dexterity she will turn on her heel and club her sister with the saliva stained fist all in one full swoop. Maybe I should video it and submit to a contest. If we won we could use the money to send these children away to summer camp.
Oh, I forgot to add that Liv will be named the world's champion whiner at the convention in Las Vegas next month. I bow before you as a humbled noble parent. We got the certified letter in the mail yesterday. It is an esteemed honor, we know and we are so proud. Other children may have tried to compete with sheer number of hours spent whining and number of anti-depressant pills their parents slug in one day. But not one has shown the style that Liv has and the intensity for which she shows her craft. There is some serious emotion behind her talent, it comes deep within her gut at about 60 decibels beyond what even a dog can hear if you must know. Send No-Whining buttons.
Rounding the corner in this week's news round up, Chloe the new dog, you know the one that lets Olivia practice for her proctology and dentist licenses without complaint, has taken to maiming and killing small rodents within the walls of her new backyard. Yesterday's victim was a hapless and sadly cute little chipmunk. May he rest in peace. (In the neighbor's backyard, but that is another summer time story.) This dog, who is amazingly sweet natured and delightful while inside the house has turned into the Executioner as soon as she steps foot on the deck. She caught the chipmunk yesterday and only maimed it. I screamed bloody murder at her until she dropped it on the ground. I made her come inside to give the creature an opportunity to recover and hopefully scamper to safety. An hour later she went back out to "play with the kids". Within 20 minutes I saw her yet again with the chipmunk in her mouth, who I thought was ok since he got up and walked away from the crime scene the first time. I screamed for the Muffin Man who came running with a shovel. Ava yelled at the Muffin Man not to hurt Chloe (the shovel was for a dead little rodent, but Ava thought otherwise) and Livi shouted at the dog "Time Out...Bad Doggie" while swinging happily on the swingset. Where was I during the drama? Running around chasing the dog yelling for her to "DROP IT". Yes, I do know the dog can sprint 40 miles an hour and that is how she caught the thing in the first place.
The whole ordeal ended with Chloe in victory clenching one very dead little chipmunk in her mouth. The kids were surprisingly ok with the scenes of carnage played out before them. Maybe it is because we watch too much Meerkat Manor. The Muffin Man ended the ordeal by heaving the dead chipmunk into the neighbor's back woods...and then we all went inside and ate ice cream. And that, is how Chloe killed Alvin the Chipmunk.
It's only Thursday and quite frankly I have to quit for the week. I'm that tired. And, I didn't even tell you how I ready I am to hire Jo the Supernanny just to help me get out the door by 9am to attend swimming lessons. Seriously, it is too freaking hard just to get two little girls into the car to drive 2 miles to swim lessons? Apparently, for me it is. Apparently, summer itself is a little more than I'd bargained for.