|Pluto, do you have room for me?|
Here in the tween orbit we have experienced quite a bit of celestial whining lately. I have become the social director for two 10-year olds, the concergie desk, the driver and a human target for moods of all sorts, all for the sake of Summertime fun for my wranglers. Yikes! Does this definition provided by Wikipedia sound familiar at your home? Of course, without pay!
As you might guess, my wish for the rest of the Summer is to venture out to Pluto. Why? Well, because it’s the one planet positioned so far from earth, I would NEVER have to listen to the sniping, the fighting, the “I’m boreds” and the slammin’ of doors.
I think it’s a perfect idea. I might even meet some other Moms there. I’ve been trying to teach the wranglers to be responsible, and help around the house. They are used to being waited on and it’s high time for them to pitch in.
I have found that this joyous task could be compared to what it’s like to endure a C-section without anesthetic. Not a picnic.
We can always say, “Oh this is such an awkward age,” but then we look back and realize that all of the age groups had something quirky about them. But when the attitude begins to rear it’s ugly head, then it’s time to become a Mommy Warrior. If the barbarians are going dish it up then Mommies In Orbit is gonna catapult it right back at ’em.
|Our Mommy, the Barbarian!|
So you see, we are a just a big, happy, dyfunctional Summertime family. Always looking for something to do. Can you help us?