Cracks in the walls of mommy-dom

Lately we've been feeling the strains of summer-itis.

The kids swim every morning, on the team and then often free swim afterwards. The day then melts into an unstructured morass. Now there is a fatigue and edginess that is setting in. One friend has counted how many days (as of this week) the kids have actually been out of school. It is a mere 18 days.

Only 18 days.

In that short time, my kids seem to have locked into the cycle of "battle to the death." It is as if one child has determined that by becoming the reigning child, the television or spider web-encrusted home will be his or hers. [Insert maniacal laugh track here.] Little did I know that petite Veronica (7) is such a formidable wrestler.

Next week Veronica partakes in the UNCW MarineQuest camp and it is not a moment too soon. But in the mean time, the kids are circling each other, ready to pounce at the earliest sign of weakness.

Only I'm the weak link. For a bookish, non-retail gal that I am, I relished walking around Mayfaire with Petra (1) in a stroller on Wednesday. For two hours. No agenda. I had dumped Veronica and Mac (4) (unceremoniously) on their sweet and unsuspecting Coach David (not sure of his age) for the movie "Wall-E." Then were dragged to a swim meet at Porters Neck.

Towards the end of the week, Philip and I had tried to arrange each child spending special time with Philip's parents (ages unavailable), including a sleep-over for Mac. Then I was to steal away to share beers poolside.

Except (when Veronica was having her special time) Mac quietly walked himself into his room and fell asleep. And slept for about four hours. I thought about pulling my hair out and waking him when his grandfather stopped by to pick him up and around the time to meet friends. But I was lulled by the silence…it was too pleasant. I had the nurturing thoughts of a mother considering her child was in desperatie need of the sleep.

Then the other shoe dropped.

This son of ours, who notoriously can nap, eat and then go straight to bed and sleep until 8 the next morning, wouldn't go to sleep after dinner.

Then he woke us up early. Buoyed by his newfound energy, he showed up in our room around 6 a.m.

Don't look for me at the fireworks tonight. I'll have the covers pulled over my head, trying to catch up on my sleep to patch up some of these signs of weakness in the walls of mommy-dom. If you're looking for the kids, they'll probably be giving a wrestling demonstration on Front Street around 9:45 p.m.

Happy Fourth of July! (And Happy Birthday, Chris!)