A couple of weeks ago I was ill. As I’m currently staying with my parents while our house purchase completes, I was able to take a rare opportunity to recuperate in bed rather than soldiering on as moms are so often apt (forced) to do when unwell. I’ve longed for this day for approximately five years – an entire day of rest, relaxation and reading a good book, most importantly away from the kids. Yet ironically as I lay there trying unsuccessfully to nap and listening to the kids play with their grandparents my only thought was that I wanted to be downstairs with them. It hit home that day that I’m very often guilty of not appreciating my kids.
I very often hide from the imaginary games of my five year old – invented housework, unnecessary diaper changes, even making a dent in the ironing mound are preferable. When it’s absolutely unavoidable and the game of princesses (where I spend most of the time being bossed around by a squeaky voice – princesses apparently speak in higher pitched voices than five year olds) moves into minute thirty-one I tend to snap and tell her in no uncertain terms to bog off and play something on her own. I very often get annoyed when I’m trying to do something (like write that late blog post I’ve unwisely left until the last minute) with two kids chipping away at my fast thinning patience. I very often refer to my son as ‘a pain in the arse’. I very often release a sigh of relief at naptime and release an even bigger sigh of relief at bedtime. I very often look at my watch in the hope that one of those peaceful sleepy-times is approaching. I very often curse in the middle of the night when woken (again) by a screaming toddler.
This paints a very bad picture of me as a mean, ungrateful mom who doesn’t deserve two beautiful children. I’m not, I swear. This is just an honest account of how I feel 10% of the time, but it’s that 10% that I feel guilty about when I’m made to consider the unthinkable what if. “What if…they weren’t there”. Lying there in my sick bed, missing my children who I’d longed to escape I was reminded of Mike Spohr’s heartbreaking blog post Sixty Seconds marking three months of his darling daughter’s passing.
As busy moms we too rarely consider what a blessing our children are as we’re wrapped up in our daily lives trying to wear too many hats, trying to keep too many balls in the air and with fingers in too many pies. But from now on I’m going to make a point of reminding myself daily: “Enjoy your kids; don’t endure them”.
As I walk away from our front hallway (which also serves as our “time out spot”) after giving my two year old a well deserved time out….I realize that my children aren’t purposely trying to drive me insane by being fussy. They are actually trying their best to combat the summer heat, as am I. Summertime is filled with tons of fun stuff like picnics, outings to the waterpark, and generally staying outdoors as much as possible. However, with these wonderful summertime activities also come hot, sticky, heat filled days and nights that will bring out the extra “crankiness” in kids.
I thought it relevant for me to share some tips and tricks for keeping the kiddies cool during those scorching hot days.
1) Freezies. They don’t have to be anything fancy or sugar filled. Even freezing lemon water in Popsicle containers works well.
2) Sprinkler. Good old fashioned, non expensive fun. But, be sure to turn off when not using….don’t want to waste water
3) Shade, shade and more shade. Temperatures in the shade can be up to 10 degrees cooler than in direct sunlight. So, find that shady tree and have your picnic there.
4) Air-conditioned Car. Sounds wasteful, but don’t underestimate taking the little ones for a short jaunt in your air conditioned car. It gets them out of the heat long enough to cool down their body temperature plus it’s a good way to distract a fussy child.
5) Damp cloth on the fan….yes, this actually works!
Tell us how you keep cool in the hot summer months.
This is one of my favorite photos from my childhood. Here I am on Newquay beach in the summer of ‘69 with my mum and dad. I love the way we all look so healthy, toned and tanned. OK, maybe I was sporting a little baby fat, but I was only 10 months old. So what’s wrong with this picture? No, I’m not talking about it actually being a beautiful summer’s day on a British beach; I’m talking about the lack of sun protection. Where’s my hat? Where’s anyone’s hat? If you look at the uncropped version of this family holiday snap, not only are there no hats in sight, you’re hard pressed to spot even a parasol. And when questioned, my mum honestly can’t remember if any of us were wearing sunscreen. She thinks probably not. Yet I don’t blame her. Things were just different 40 years ago. I now look at this picture in another, rather more depressing light – evidence of the depletion of the ozone layer.
Starting at this photo and remembering through my life I can almost measure the ozone layer dissipating. I don’t once recall having sunburn as a child, yet neither do I recall ever being cornered and slathered with sunscreen. At age 18 I started frequenting European holiday spots once or twice a year where ‘getting a tan’ was the number one priority of the week. I spent a good, solid 8 hours on the beach daily. Then I did pack sunscreen. My SPF2 would suffice for the first half of the week, after which I would move on to carrot oil, to get that fabulous (or so I thought back then) orange glow. In my youthful ignorance, I had no idea I was literally frying myself. Skin damage, premature aging and Melanoma didn’t cross my mind. Once, dissatisfied with a tan from Christmas in Tenerife I very stupidly proceeded to roast my face under my mum’s antique sunlamp.
Yet now, if I’m lax enough to forget the SPF15+ (as often happens while I dutifully remember to protect every visible inch of the kids’ skin) and spend just a couple of hours out in the sun I’m guaranteed to get a fairly bad sunburn. I wouldn’t dream of taking my kids to the beach without a liberal application of sunscreen, wide brimmed hats and a sun suit or at least a T-shirt to cut down on the exposure. Most moms are the same. One friend of mine won’t let her kids outside for 5 minutes without a layer of sunscreen at least an inch thick. They look like ghosts and if you try to pick them up they slip through your fingers. We only go to the beach in the morning, or leave it until late afternoon. My babies were always protected by the UV shade when in the stroller – it was by far my favorite piece of baby kit.
Today’s moms are all better educated on the harmful effects of the sun. As our protective ozone layer is sadly and thoughtlessly whittled away we are being bombarded by more sun-burning, cancer-causing UVB rays – we’re right to heed these warnings. For any moms who are still worried they aren’t taking enough precautions, I suggest heading to Britain for your summer holidays. I’m staying in the UK with my parents and there is absolutely no danger of aquiring a sunburn here.
I very often hide from the imaginary games of my five year old – invented housework, unnecessary diaper changes, even making a dent in the ironing mound are preferable. When it’s absolutely unavoidable and the game of princesses (where I spend most of the time being bossed around by a squeaky voice – princesses apparently speak in higher pitched voices than five year olds) moves into minute thirty-one I tend to snap and tell her in no uncertain terms to bog off and play something on her own. I very often get annoyed when I’m trying to do something (like write that late blog post I’ve unwisely left until the last minute) with two kids chipping away at my fast thinning patience. I very often refer to my son as ‘a pain in the arse’. I very often release a sigh of relief at naptime and release an even bigger sigh of relief at bedtime. I very often look at my watch in the hope that one of those peaceful sleepy-times is approaching. I very often curse in the middle of the night when woken (again) by a screaming toddler.
I thought it relevant for me to share some tips and tricks for keeping the kiddies cool during those scorching hot days.
