Experiments in marriage, parenthood and other adult dysfunctions.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
I’m anxious about how this will come across. I’ve long known that admitting I have this disorder might somewhat ostracize me from my peers and it pains me to know that my children might be affected in any way by the information that follows.
But as the seasons have changed and yet another school year has ended, I’m finding it harder and harder to go about my daily routines. The struggles I endure exacerbate my symptoms and as a stay at home mom of 3, my babies are often burdened by my sickness.
There’s really no easy way to say it, but here goes. My name is Brittni and I don’t like summertime.
There, that blank stare and rolling of the eyes, that’s what I was afraid of. You parents with your camp schedules and poolside retreats, the ones that have play dates blocked out ‘til August, and family bonding time scrawled onto the dry erase calendar stuck to the refrigerator – you are my (s)heroes. But I do not share your love for all things warm weather.
Summer for an introverted mom is like the obstacle course that firefighters-in-training go through before graduation. Technically, yes, you are prepared for it. You’ve studied all books, engaged in a few dry runs and heck, this is the job you signed up for…but geez, all of these challenges at once are a bit much and why does it have to be so freaking hot?!