The Other Side of Summer

I'm sitting at my computer, tired and worn out from a full afternoon with my kids, and wondering how on earth I'm gonna make it through the summer with all of them home every day. All day. I'm feeling guilty because I remember when I used to get excited for school to be done—I couldn't wait to do fun summer things, for my kids to wear cute (often matching) summer clothes, having a wide open schedule, and being together constantly. But now I'm just sort-of overwhelmed by it all—there are so many of them. And I feel even worse when I see all the Facebook updates from better moms than I saying how excited they are for summer to commence. 
Then I look up and see a picture of my mom and me taken when I was three, and I'm feeling better about myself. Because she was amazing and I always felt loved and cared for. And listened to. I didn't even notice her face—that face that’s just holding on till bedtime, when the talking and whining and storytelling and question asking and "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom" will cease, and quiet will begin.
I love my kids and sometimes I even love being with them. Other times, exhaustion is written all over my face. I'm normal, and tonight, that's enough for me.