“But it’s Summertime…”

On Saturday around dinner time I looked at Erajh and said, “Hey, maybe we should go out for some frozen yogurt tonight”.  His response?  The blankest blank stare I’ve ever received.  Then his expression changed to one as if he were looking at someone who was green with 5 heads.

“What?  I like yogurt.  The kids will have fun.  Besides, it’s summertime.”, I replied.

I felt that I had adequately explained the situation, but was met with an almost frightened look.

Okay, here’s the thing, I don’t blame him.  Not one bit.  You see on Saturday when I suggested yogurt, it was already 7 or 7:30 at night.  That normally means that I’m starting to wrap up the day, get the kids ready for bed, and preparing for the 3 blissful hours that occur after they go to bed and I have a little time to myself.  And as I’ve written before, I’m pretty neurotic about my kid’s sleep and them getting their exact number of hours.  Even on holidays and over the weekends.  I’ve given my husband more than one lecture about how a half hour really does make a difference.  Poor guy probably thought that me suggesting yogurt was actually me carefully laying out one of those really painful looking bear traps for him to step right into.

But lately?

I’m completely out of sorts.  I think know that I’m scaring my husband just a little.  Because on Saturday night instead of tucking the kids into bed, we all piled into my mommy-mobile and went out to the local yogurt place where I fed my kids something that looked very similar to this (although theirs was a little smaller):

Yep – sprinkles, white chocolate chips, gummy bears, and all.  I didn’t even make them get healthy flavors of yogurt or throw in any fruit.  Greenleigh just about overdosed on “cotton” (marshmallows) and chocolate syrup, while Hazeline had to have her yogurt forcibly taken from her after nearly 45 minutes of chowing down.  My family – toddler & preschooler included – actually shut the yogurt place down that night.

And a sugary snack way after bedtime is just the tip of the iceberg.  Yesterday, I handed my kids golf clubs and told them to “have fun” on the mini-golf course.  Normally, just the thought of doing that would give me some sort of anxiety attack.  Bedtimes are being completely ignored and I’ve found myself reading them extra stories at 10pm.  And today I allowed the girls to eat their dessert before they had their dinner.   All of which are totally against my normal, somewhat rigid schedule, and but can easily be justified by saying the words “but it’s summertime…”.

Can you imagine if my kids actually went to school during the year and summertime was actually different from any other time of year?

Maybe the heat and humidity have gone to my head.  Maybe pregnancy has made me crazy (or just really mellow?).  Or maybe motherhood has finally driven me mad.  Whatever the reason, I’m really enjoying using this summertime excuse.

Anyone else find themselves in a summer mood lately?