Tag Archives: camp

Do Sharks Have Balls? 

30 Aug

It was a long Summer. Long. 

Although- I am happy to report that it was not as hard as last summer or the summer before or the one before that. I never thought I would say this, but, life is getting significantly easier. Trust me, I had my, “What the fu*k is wrong with you guys?” moments. But the frequency was so much less than it was before. 

I am proud to say that not only did the three children survive, but I did too! I can also report no broken bones, no stitches, no poison ivy and not one child was lost at an amusement park or museum, not even briefly. 

There was a solo trip for the kids and Daddy to Yosemite for 6 days – no sunburns, no emergency room trips and nobody attacked by wild animals. There was some vomiting, haunted hotels and bug bites, but what’s a proper road trip without those things?

There were the days that all three kids went to camp. Those were glorious days. Camp days are just the best. Handing your child over to an overly energetic college counselor who can’t wait to run around in the sun and entertain your kid, is the best feeling in the world.  Besides when the kids are all sleeping, that’s an awesome feeling too.

On days when my guilt kicked in and I figured I should remind the kiddos that the camp counselors aren’t actually their adoptive parents, we hit the beach. We had a beach groove and our own special spot on the sand near the Annenberg Beach House in Santa Monica. Our sunscreen routine was down to a science. Line up in the hallway in bathing suits youngest to oldest (one twin is 3 minutes older) and slowly rotate as I spray each of them. Then hand the sunscreen stick for their faces back and forth to each other in the car until everyone is covered. We conquered fears of seaweed, a phobia of peeing in the ocean, and even fear of sharks. My son (5) will proudly tell you that if a shark tries to eat his sisters he will kick him in the nuts. Solid plan little man. Of course this is coming from the kid who had to overcome his fear of seaweed first.

Summer of 2015. We owned you. No strollers. No diapers. No nap times. 

Fourth grade and Kindergarten (times 2) bring it on. We are ready for you. 

*Of course I would like to reserve the right to adjust my positive outlook once the kids all start acting like   little monsters again.


The Sick Joke – Visiting Week

26 Aug

I have been looking forward to today for 4 weeks. First day of Preschool!!

Summer camp ended a month ago for my 3 year old twins and I have been counting down ever since then. But, of course, I found out yesterday, it was too good to be true. As it turns out, this week is in fact not the first week back to school for the kids. For their age group it is “visiting week” at their Preschool. Which means that I go with them for an hour everyday all week. That’s it, one hour, and done.

I cried when I heard, literally cried.

Visiting Week. Awesome concept. Get the kids acclimatized, let them meet their new teachers, get used to the routine, ease into the transition.
For this mother of three, who has been to the Zoo, The Aquarium, The Beach and every Park within a 5 mile radius – not so awesome.

I totally grasp the concept and psychology behind it. I’m sure some of this, one hour a day visiting is done so the parents can adjust to leaving their children at school. I was once a first time parent with an only child, I get it. But those days are three screaming kids and 5 thousand sleepless nights behind me.
I have no qualms about teachers peeling a hysterical child off my leg as I walk out of the classroom door and wave bye-bye. I’ve been through this before. They cry for five minutes, demand Mommy comes back. Then, they discover a puzzle or a toy that they like and they might as well be orphans.

As “visiting time” wrapped up today, I seriously considered slipping the teachers some money to keep the kids there for a couple extra hours. It’s cruel to make a mother, feed and dress two 3 year olds, get them into car seats, into school and then send them right back home again after an hour, cruel.

It has been the longest Summer of my entire life. I have learned a lot about myself. I have learned that I am totally capable of taking care of three young children all by myself. I learned that I am much more resourceful than I look. I learned that going to bed exhausted after a long day of hard work feels fulfilling. I learned that no matter how hard I try, I will always hate the feeling of sand on dry feet. I learned that I have to eat every few hours or I develop an intense uncontrollable rage.

The biggest thing that I learned, is that despite all my complaining, fear and sarcasm, I actually enjoy my children. I love being their Mommy. I do prefer them in smaller less intense doses, but overall, I am enjoying this gig.

I am easing into the Mommy thing. All I need is these kids back in school so I can have some refueling time and all will be well again in the Mommyhood.

Visiting week. Really?



Sarcasm is Motherhood Set On Fire

6 Aug

My sarcasm level has reached an all time high.

I am still looking at 3 weeks until all the kids are back in school.

I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around how I’ve even made it this far. I am already 10 days deep into Mommy Camp and I am fried. Deep Fried.

6am-8pm, entertaining three children under the age of 7. I swear, just the thought of it gives me hives, literally. As I write this, I have hives on my chest. If there was such a thing as Summer Time Fear Hives, these would be them.

I can handle a week with all of them, no problem. Do a Griffith Park horsey/train day. Do a Long Beach Aquarium adventure. Do a Zimmer Museum outing. Chill at the park one day. But this? Over one month with no camp or school?

I am aware that there are wonderful Pinterest boards full of crafts and cooking projects that I could set up for the kids. Every time I check them out, I think to myself, if I was into this stuff I would have become a school teacher. As for backyard relays and scavenger hunts, again, if I was that energetic and fun, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here writing about my hate for Summer break.

At this point you might be wondering why I had kids at all… Trust me, I have thought the same thing over the past ten days more than once.

I love being a Mom. I love having three kids. I love spending time with them. I also know that I am a better Mom when exposed to my kids in moderation. In other words, I need my breaks! I crave my alone time. I have to have those few hours while they nap or go to school to recharge and regroup.

A family member once told me that I am not a “natural mother.” I guess that could be interpreted in many different and mostly offensive ways. If needing breaks and adult socialization while being a stay at home Mom makes me “unnatural” then so be it.

For now, I am relying heavily on M&M’s for bribery, the TV for distraction, and the calendar, to mark each day that we get closer to school starting.

Sarcasm and humor are guiding my way as it usually does.

I read an article yesterday that said, children don’t comprehend sarcasm. If that’s the case then I wonder if my kids have understood anything I’ve been saying to them all these years?



Musical Massacre

1 Jul

I wonder if only my kids can turn the world’s happiest song into the most depressing song ever?

8:45am, all the kids loaded into the back of the car after 2 hours and 45 minutes of me counting down until it was time to take them to camp.

I decide to give the kids a break from the Adult music that I usually make them listen to. I’ve never been one for kiddie tunes. I have found that KROQ and most of my iPod selections are actually pretty harmless. Except for that time the song, Detachable Penis came on KROQ during flashback Lunch, it took me a week to explain that one to them.

I ask if they have any requests. Shockingly, Unanimously, they agree, Mickey!

They are screaming for the customized Mickey CD that says Talia’s name every five seconds.
It’s probably one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. Mickey Mouse does not quite have the Israeli accent down when pronouncing Talia. He sounds so confident as he says her name incorrectly over and over again. “Hey Tahlyeha, want to sing a song with Mickey today?! That’s great!”

They all start screaming about who wants which song and in what order.

After a five minute debate we all decide on the good old standby, If You’re Happy and You Know It.

Mickey sings, If you’re happy and you know it clap you’re hands…. And all 3 kids clap enthusiastically.

This is where things get ugly…

HB: Its my turn to clap! I’m the oldest!

J: I wanna clap! I’m gonna clap!

T: It’s my song! Mickey sayin’ my name, this is my song!

Me: We can all clap together, we are a family.

HB: You don’t get it Mom, obviously you don’t remember being a kid.

T: My song! My song! My song!!!!

J: You are all poo poo faces! I hate you!

Arguably, one of childhood’s sweetest melodies, butchered by my backseat angels. All they had to do was clap those little hands, stomp those tiny feet, and possibly shout hooray. But, no, not going to happen. G-D forbid they give me one of those perfect Mommy moments where I get to sigh and bask. Glow with pride as their voices join in sweet unison and think, Wow, Leslie, all this hard work really is worth it.

I’ve had those Mommy Moments. Usually, it’s when I watch the kids sleep. I will tell you that I do know that this is all worth it. I may not have proof yet, I just know it. Just like I know that these three kids love each other. They may not be saying it all the time, or clapping their hands or shouting hooray as one unit. I feel it, I see it, I know it.

They aren’t ready to sing together yet, but I know that when the time comes, they will.



Lunching Lady of Leisure

26 Jun

I’m going to allow the offender in this story to remain nameless. I believe if I did share his name, he might be hunted down and beat by every housewife on the planet.

Last week, I was confronted by this person and asked,
“What exactly do you do all day?”
I could see where this was going from the first three words.
“What do you mean, what do I do all day?” I asked back
Well, he replied, “your kids are now all in camp from 9:30am – 2pm, so you have an entire day to yourself.”

An entire day to myself. HA!

Here’s what I did yesterday:

6am-8:50am – Fed kids, had multiple complaints about the food and service, dressed kids, groomed kids, played with kids, disciplined kids, put my workout clothes on, wiped kids, begged all to put socks and shoes on, watched all 3 take socks and shoes off, put all shoes and socks back on, got everyone out the front door, convinced them to get in their carseats, threatened with calls to police if they didn’t get buckled, took away toys, had a book thrown at me, the neighbor gave me a nasty look, finally loaded everyone in the car, left the extra camp clothes bags in the house, ran back in the house while two of the kids screamed not to leave them alone in the car with the crazy squirrels, finally got to Olympic Blvd. to head to camp to search for a parking spot. Realized that I forgot to eat and never drank my coffee that I had reheated three times.

9:05am – 9:30am – Drop off kids #1, 2, and 3 at 2 different camps.

9:40am – 10:45am – Workout and dry cleaners

11am – 11:30am – Shower and get dressed

11:45am – 1:15 pm – Trader Joe’s and Ralph’s, unload groceries, organize fridge, cleaned up from breakfast.

1:15pm – 1:45pm – returned phone calls, sent emails, made appointments, ate something, finally.

1:45pm – 2pm – drive to camp, park, take a deep breath and pick up the first 2 kids.

*all time gaps allow for LA traffic and parking.

That is a typical day just from 6am to 2pm. Then, we have assorted activities, errands, dinner and baths, and bedtime routines, from 2-8:30pm.
On a day when I have to squeeze in a doctor’s appointment, a meeting or feel like actually writing, it’s busier. Not to mention, I still have a child, sometimes two, who refuse to sleep through the night.

I’m not saying, woe is me, look what a hard working, busy Mom I am. I am well aware that there are women who do twice as much as what I do while schlepping three toddlers along with them. There are women who have to work all day and still figure out how to pay for the groceries. I am grateful that I am not in that situation.

However – I WORK HARD. I am not lunching at the Ivy and having facials all day at The Four Seasons. Quite frankly, even if I was, as long as my kids were covered and taken care of for that day, it’s my prerogative.

I have learned and changed dramatically since becoming a Mother. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I decided to go off the pill. I have learned that until you have walked a mile in someone else’s shoes, you have no right to judge them.

So, to the unnamed person who asked, “What exactly do you do all day?”

My answer is, “My kids are healthy, loved and safe. Everything else is none of your f*cking business.”



%d bloggers like this: