The Popsicle Breakdown of 2025
Every summer I make sure our freezer in the garage is stocked with frozen popsicles. The sticks in red, orange, green, blue and purple that remind me of my own childhood summers. The reason my scissors are always sticky and messy, usually lying on the floor in our garage.
Last night these popsicle sticks caused me to have a mental breakdown. You may think I’m joking but I assure you I’m not. These tiny, artificial, I’m sure toxic sticks of frozen substance almost made me burst into combustion.
Yesterday was HOT. I’ve made a pact with myself to not complain about the heat anymore because I found myself often groaning, “Ugh, it’s so hot!”, over and over and over. We get it Kayla, it’s hot. Move on. So I’ve been trying. But yesterday the heat made me angry. My printer wouldn’t work. (Why are printers one of the most frustrating items on the planet?) And I was really hot. Not a good combination.
Thirty minutes and a few cartridge changes later, the printer was fixed. The heavens opened up. Angels sang. It was a miracle. And then I looked around- my house was messy- as it always is in the summer. No surprise. But there were popsicle stick wrappers EVERYWHERE. They were on the nice slip covered couch, the end table, multiple plastic wrappers littered the floor, the kitchen counters and toxic bright popsicle liquid was melted all over in various places.
My rage grew with every popsicle wrapper I picked up, every swipe of my paper towel- I thought about the 17 times I had told the girls to make sure and throw away their wrappers. Also- why was there so many? I’m not beyond feeding my girls popsicles for lunch but we ate frozen pizza that day. The sheer amount of plastic wrappers just about sent me over the edge. Did they have a popsicle party that I wasn’t invited to? When did this all take place? I was confused and angry… and hot.
Fast forward to that evening around 9:30 p.m. I was folding laundry in the living room watching The Lost Kitchen- where I’m sure no toxic popsicle sticks would ever be found and walk into the kitchen to find Emmy with 2 popsicle sticks in hand, juice dripping on the freshly cleaned counters as Brielle walked by with two in her hand as well. And I had a breakdown.
I’m not proud of it but these popsicles sent me over the edge. I didn’t know we were having a free-for-all popsicle day and I shouted, “I’m NEVER buying these popsicles again. We are DONE with popsicles.” As I wiped bright green melted popsicle that was nearing my laptop, I wanted to cry.
I love my girls. I love summer with them. And I actually really do love popsicles. But sometimes the day to day constant messes and over stimulation gets to me. And I don’t love it so much. There’s some days that popsicles at 9:30 don’t bother me and other days where the 54th popsicle wrapper sends me over the edge. I’m human. You’re human. And even though I try really hard to not have any mental breakdowns, a few popsicles had me literally in tears last night.
So, if you too have had a mental breakdown over popsicle wrappers or messes or fighting or hearing “mom” shouted for the 198th time that day; or are finding it hard to enjoy the summers that we are all supposed to cherish and enjoy.. I stand with you in solidarity. I get it. Give yourself a break. Go eat a popsicle. Tomorrow will be better.
xoxo,
Kayla