Mothering Mayhem: Life with the Wild Boys

Remember a time when summer vacation meant that you had a break? Way, WAY back when, when you actually got two months reprieve to recover from the rigors of learning cursive and multiplication?  Yeah, me neither.  I know it exists because we are smack dab in the middle of it. My teacher friends are cavorting and having fun, while I'm cursing them for failing to supervise my delinquents for at least a few hours a day, thus propelling my workload into astronomical amounts of arrests and court time and making me seriously consider moving to a country that forces it's children to attend school always. ALWAYS. That being said, welcome humble readers to Mayhem Mother's halfway through summer tribute to her quickly vanishing sanity.  Because if the work load increases, the stress increases, which means things that the wild boys think are trivial cause me to drink heavily and swear like a sailor as soon as they aren't in ear shot.  But that hasn't been going as well as I ...

Here I sit, logging in this morning at nearly 9:00 am, and it's already in the mid 80's.  I'm told we may get thunderstorms, which accounts for the humidity.  I'm also told it will be around 100 again, despite the storms, WITH the humidity.  Day seven of the heat wave, or is it eight...I've lost count and the only thing I know for sure is that I wake up and my head is filled with obscenities.  The wild boys, however, they wake up refreshed, energetic, ready to take on the world, and ready to stop my heart on a daily basis. The wild boys appear unaffected by the heat.  This is actually a wonderful thing, since they think being inside is a punishment and we all suffer for it.  So when the heat kicked in we filled their pool on the deck, made a household rule that as soon as it's in the upper 70's the boys are exempt from all clothing except swimsuits, and have resigned ourselves to the fact that we may need another mortgage for PG&E and the water b...