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I love WebMD.

I have successfully diagnosed ring worm, strep throat and possibly the bubonic plague by cutting out the Kaiser advice nurse middle-woman and pulling up my web doctor.

Who needs six years of college and two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy? Just call me Doc.

In fact, I’ve been so spot-on with my diagnosis and treatments, I recently strayed into veterinary medicine.

Hammy the hamster seemed a bit off lately. Drinking large amounts of water and tinkling in the corner enough to start her own wading pool. Not eating much, lethargic.

A quick web reference check and all her symptoms fit…diabetes. I’m serious. Diabetic hamster. It’s for real.

So, after gently explaining to my patient’s owner (my son) that Hammy will be okay, but now needs extra special care, we were off to Target for treatment.

Pedialyte and high protein Hammy food, hold the sunflowers seeds.

I do house calls.

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Every summer break since my kids have been in school a favorite morning routine replaces the rush of getting up and out of the house.

It’s called Play With Mommy. But first, they let me sleep in.

However, as soon as I crack an eye or wiggle a toe, I have two munchkins on my bed with the game de jour.

And of course, with kids, repetition is key. I have spent entire months playing Crazy 8’s, Uno, Snakes (with about two dozen rubber snakes), Kitties (I’m the momma kitty, they’re the baby kitties), Sorry!, closet hoops, ping pong tournaments and Hulk vs. Spiderman (I was the Hulk).

This month the favorite is Pet Shop. Each morning we set up a menagerie of stuffed and real animals for the pet shop. Two dozen stuffed kitties on the couch. Stuffed Nemo, Dorie and Squirt in the “tank” chair. Stuffed birds on the table along with Hammy the hamster playing herself. Our dog Kyber is for sale too with a few stuffed puppies in the next room.

Before our store opens we have to feed the animals. Then I tell my kids, “It’s Pancakes with Pets Day again!” – the only way to get them to stop and eat something before we cross the grouchy point of no return.

Next, we set up my laptop as a register on the kitchen counter and open the back screen door for business.

We take turns being browsing customers and shop owners of Pets R Us. We have an old cell phone for phone orders, expired credit cards for purchases and receipts from my purse to give to customers.

We probably play this for a good hour before the chores and commitments of the day need attending to.

But for one magical hour in the morning, I am a kid again with my babies.

I wonder what we’ll be playing the summer of their Junior and Senior years?

I finally found a way to keep my kids so busy, make them so exhausted, and have them so worn out with fun that they are literally begging to go to bed.

Yes! Begging to go to bed with moans of “I’m sooooo tired.”

Normally, my kids would choose death before ever admitting they were tired.

But there they were – 8ish on a still light summery night, heads hitting the pillow and not a peep. Not a sneak up to get another drink. No flashlights flashing signals down the hall. No walking past a bedroom door at 9:30 and finding a stuffed animal tea party in session. Snoring before I even left the room after hugs and kissies!

Thank you Challenger British soccer camp. Where can I send the fruit basket?

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Actually, the British already came, coached, and played my kids into the ground until they collapsed with dazed grins of soccer euphoria.

Today wrapped up the final day of the Challenger soccer camp with real, live coaches from Britain. Six young men and one woman with such delightful accents, I almost stuck around for five hours just to listen to them talk and be so adorable.

Actually (and I just said that in my head with a spot-on Manchester dialect), I worried the camp was a little long, but my soccer-rabid kids loved the extended camp. Even if they did look like wilted little flowers when I picked them up in the afternoon.

And I got sooooo much done – every errand on my list without having to ax from the bottom because the whining became too much to handle; exercise first thing in the morning – shower included!—without having to walk around all day in gym clothes hoping at some point I could squeeze it in; laundry done – and folded and put away!; creative dinners on time without quickie side dishes of applesauce or Jell-O.

I even had time to arrive early a few days to watch the kids play Austin Powers (When the coaches asked if the players were ready the kids answered, “Yeah, baby, yeah!”), and a daily World Cup competition complete with flag waving goal celebrations.

Okay, and listen to those cute Brits talk some more too.

I wish you could’ve seen the reaction from one mopped headed Englishman when I told him I had just seen David Beckham at Disneyland the week earlier. You would’ve thought I told him I just shook the hand of Jesus.

Once he composed himself and after breathlessly confirming how close I got, he asked, “‘ow far is Los Angel—ees from ‘ere? Do you think I’d catch sight of ‘im if I went down there? I’d really like to see a game of Galaxy football while I’m ‘ere.”

How’d I sound? Pretty spot-on imitation, wouldn’t ya say? Not bad, eh?

Hmm, I wonder if they still have room in next month’s camp…for the kids, of course!

We pulled in from Disneyland this morning just before 2 a.m. Needless to say, the whole group is dragging a bit today.

But Mommy’s putting on her big girl panties and dealing with it. Especially since I’m not the one who had to get up and go to work this morning instead of riding the kids’ 14-hour sleep train into the station.

As Hubby likes to say, “There’s tired and then there’s fun-tired. You’re not allowed to complain if you’re fun-tired.”

So, I’m not complaining, I’m simply stating, that if this is just the first week of our action packed fun filled summer – I’m gonna need another set of big girl panties.

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It was embarrassing, really.

There we were in a long, snaking line surrounded by 50,000 of my closest friends who also thought this would be a good week to hit Disneyland before the rest of the kids in the country got out of school. (note: This theory was proven false by every kid in Los Angeles still in school coming to Disneyland for their end of the year parties.)

The wailing started quietly, but then quickly reached a higher, more fevered pitch.

Big alligator tears soon followed with dramatic sobbing. “Please! Please don’t make me go on this ride again! I really, really, really don’t want to! Please don’t make me!”

If you’re guessing it’s me trying to avoid the spinning nauseousness of the Teacups for the umpteenth time, I nearly came to that.

No, this mortifying scene of child abuse was my own 7 year old daughter, obviously being dragged against her will, onto Thunder Mountain Railroad.

My normally fearless, daring, rough tough cream puff who rolls with just about anything her 8 year old brother throws at her, had ridden the whip-fast roller coaster the previous day and seemed okay with it. I mean, we knew she didn’t love it, but she had given it a half thumbs-up.

Before we got in line we had mistakenly thought she was willing to take one for the team so the whole family could ride it together instead of someone having to sit out with her.

Boy were we wrong. With condemning eyes glaring at us, Hubby quickly volunteered to sit it out.

After that we had to reevaluate every ride we had talked Baby Girl into or contemplated dragging her on so the adults could get their kicks at Disneyland too.

To undo the traumatizing we adults stuck our pouting lips back in and accepted the modified Disneyland plan of attack for Baby Girl who just wasn’t ready for big kid rides yet.

The Winnie the Pooh ride replaced Splash Mountain.

Autotopia replaced Space Mountain.

The Golden Zephyr replaced California Screamin’ over on the California Adventure side.

Watching people get soaked by the Grizzly Rapids replaced getting soaked on Grizzly Rapids.

And the biggest injustice was the Teacups replacing the Matterhorn.

The fabulous Soaring Over California ride was where we drew the line though. When Baby Girl’s waterworks started both Hubby and I turned to her and snapped, “Suck it up kid. It’s just a ride.”

Then we promised to take her on Turtle Talk with Crush again if she didn’t turn us into CPS.

No more homework, no more books, no more teacher’s dirty looks…

The kids are out of school today and to start their lazy days of summer we’re going to go to the local park and have a swim party with classmates.

Then Monday we’re taking them to Disneyland.

When they get back they have a week of Challenger soccer camp.

Then family is coming to stay with us for our annual rafting weekend.

The following week we’ll have more out-of-towners for our annual 4^th of July/Hubby’s birthday four day extravaganza.

Somewhere in there we’ll start our second annual Fun Wednesdays where we hit kid fun spots like Raging Waters, King Skate, Skatetown, Folsom Lake, Country Club Lanes, and summer movies.

Then the girl child has Buzzardball basketball camp.

The following week the boy child has the same camp.

Then we go to Shaver Lake with some friends.

Then both kids have Sac State soccer camp.

Then we go camping again with six other families.

Then we go to Donner Lake with another crowd.

Then school starts and the kids will finally get a break from their summer vacation.

Apparently, we don’t do lazy in this house.

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