Obligated to have a childhood

My girlfriend Stacey and I were talking this week and pondering the question, "why do we try to do so much?" We came to the conclusion that it has to do with our kids and their lives. We, as their devoted stay-at-home moms, feel obligated to make sure they have memorable childhoods. Why the obligation? Because we don't wont to be the parent whose child says, "I don't really remember my summer." Instead, we want to be the parents whose children remember they swam everyday, made pancakes for dinner and had weekly play dates. We want to be the parents whose kids say, "I loved my summer."

Despite my tyrant last Sunday, I think we've fulfilled our summer quota. Yes, there have been more than a few bad days, but there have been more good than bad. There were plenty of days I let my kids play video games more than the 1.25 hours suggested by American Pediatric Association. Our lunch menu didn't comply with the state childhood nutritional guide because I counted hot dogs as a protein and ketchup as a vegetable. Lastly, I didn't monitor the morning tooth brushing like I do during the school year so I'm sure, there were a few times their breath could have killed--as far as I know, no one is dead.

So why the post? Because it's the end of the summer. We've got one more week before we hang up our swimsuits and flip flops for khakis and Polo's. I've got 7 more days to help my kids answer the essay question 'what I did this summer' and make sure the answer makes their childhood memorable.