Amber is a military wife and stay-at-home-mom to a son who is 12 with Aspergers and a daughter who is 7 and loud. She loves to write (she wrote a book out called The Swimmer’s Assistant) and read when she can–sometimes her kids hide her books, thinking it’s funny. (It’s not.) She blogs about nearly everything over at her blog Airing My Dirty Laundry One Post At A Time.
School ended for my kids on May 23rd.
And while I love sleeping in, it also means that I’ve lost something that I cherish: silence.
My daughter Natalie? She’s 7 and dramatic. For instance, a couple of days ago, she flung herself on her bed and wailed, “The boy I love is GONE FOREVER!” See, we live on a military base so kids she goes to school with can move away at any time. She’s known this boy since PreK and unfortunately, his family is moving.
My son Tommy is 12 and has Aspergers. He argues with his sister a lot—mainly because she’s loud, and he can’t take the constant noises that come from her. “Can we just give her to someone?” he asks at least once weekly.
My husband helps when he can—but the military is sending him away for a class.
This means I’ll be consuming a lot of chocolate, because I tend to stuff my face when I’m stressed.
Blogging generally takes a bit of a backseat during the summer, because my daughter will either take my laptop or say things like, “It would be nice to see my Mommy’s face.” (I told you. She’s dramatic.)
We’ll be headed to the beach mid-June. I’m flying with the kids on my own, because as I mentioned before, the military is sending my husband to a class. It was completely rude of them, because he was supposed to be at the beach with us—but the military was like, “Sorry, he isn’t going, we need him.”
Flying with my kids isn’t horrible, since they are older, but sometimes Natalie wants to be entertained even though I’ve stuffed her backpack with new toys/books/crayons.
“Tell me about the clouds,” she’ll say.
“They’re white,” I’ll answer, wishing that she’d just read her new book so I could read my US Weekly and figure out why Lindsay Lohan is so upset now.
“Tell me about these trays,” she’ll continue, unhooking the tray in front of her and running her fingers all over the germ infested top.
I’m sure I’ll still have fun on the beach, even though my husband isn’t around, but I’ll still yearn for his help when Natalie is refusing to leave the local aquarium because she “needs” to take a dolphin home with us.
So yes. It’s going to be a long summer. I’ll survive it with chocolate and Diet Coke. If you hear a loud banging noise, it’s just me escaping the house and running down the street screaming with my hands waving frantically over my head.