B-Rant

- submitted by L. Keenan on 06/05/2008

  

School's Out for Summer, Let the Panic Attack Begin!

By Linda Keenan

Am I looking forward to summer vacation? Here's what I say to people, with a crazy-happy clenched Mommy face, "oh of course, finally it's here. The sun, the fun....ha..ha...yeah (voice trails off, head downcast)." Inside, here's what I am thinking: are you f-ing kidding me? Looking forward to getting sand in cracks I didn't know I had? Looking forward to wrestling down 40 pounds of unbridled toddler energy in 90 degree heat? My hair that turns into the Irish Afro the minute I walk out the door? Slathering my boy with sunscreen, AND having to shave my legs everyday? Looking forward to it? Are you mad? (Cue throttling here).

Clearly I'm not alone here in my dislike of full-time parenting in the summer. At my preschool, the emails, already with a hint of panic, began fast and furious while the snow was still flying. They all started with the obligatory "I know it seems early to worry about this BUT..."

The sentences would continue on about this great camp or that unbeatable swim program, but really what it's saying is: I know it's early to worry about this BUT... if I don't have full-time care nailed down for my kid by May latest, I'm going to have a panic attack that will attack me, you, my husband and yeah maybe even this a-hole cop who's pulling me over right now.

I'm sure that folks who work full-time are utterly disgusted by my attitude (believe me, I disgust myself plenty). I must seem like just a spoiled mommy who doesn't deserve these idyllic summer days with her child. You might be right. But in my defense, I would say, if you did it full-time, you might find it's not as wondrous as it seems. Think about who gets hired to take care of your kids during the summer, if you can't do it: 18 year old kids (or younger), because they are the only suckers willing to do it.

I will say that there are reasons specific to both my child and myself that make summer a dark blot on my calendar. I have never liked the outdoors. I'm happy when it rains; it gives me an excuse to pursue the activities I love most: reading, movie-viewing, restaurant-going, and sitting on my ass.

My child, for his part, seems to overheat to an unusual degree. Within 10 minutes of being in the hot sun, he is begging to go home. My preschool, where my son was going to attend camp, has recommended I cut his time there in half. What does this mean for us? Countless hours spent in my boy's favorite place: our dank, forbidding finished basement, my own little Island of the Misfit Toys (Mr. Potato Head missing most limbs, Operation with no Funny Bone, you get the idea). Apparently this is the summertime place to be for goth mom and her sun-hating ghost boy.

I know a few parents who like the summer and its free-form delights. One friend says she finds the drop-off, pick-up shuffle of school so harried that she's thrilled to have nowhere to go, and nothing to do. But I would say in my rough survey of moms, most can take summer childcare for a few days a week, tops, and leave the rest to someone else.

I can think of only one way that I might enjoy full-time summer duty. It would be modeled on one of my favorite movies (use your best James Lipton voice here), the incomparable and groundbreaking, Meatballs. All the parents would join forces at our own Camp North Star during the day to take care of the kids, and at night we "counselors" would all engage in hijinks and high school romance. All under the direction, of course, of head camp counselor Bill "Tripper" Murray. I wonder if he's got a gig for the summer...

Linda Keenan is a contributing writer at Burbia. Linda worked 7 years as a head writer/senior producer for various programs on CNN. Before that she worked as a writer/producer for Bloomberg TV. She now writes satire, primarily about parenting culture, at Thoroughly Modern Mommy.