By the time spring and all of its attendant craziness rolls around, summer seems to be this huge, yawning expanse of time for me to fill up. So much possibility! So many goals!
It may seem like a logical time to get the house in order, but that never seems to happen. My husband has made headway in some areas of the house, but I’ve spent most of the past nine weeks appeasing, refereeing and avoiding my offspring.
During the first week of August, we were on vacation and that’s when the onslaught of fall-related emails began. I was on a beach and literally the only thing I was thinking about was a creative way to torture the seagull who snatched a sandwich out of my hand. My husband solemnly stood guard with a pink shovel to prevent future incidents and after I took his picture and posted it, I checked my email and was immediately besieged by a flood of messages, each more urgent than the last. Softball! Soccer! Scouting! Piano! Guilt-inducing volunteering solicitations!
I shut down, had a good cry the night before we went home, and now we’re a little over a week away from school and our fall schedule isn’t set yet. I have to keep telling myself this is beyond my control and it’s OK to politely and repeatedly say no to the guilt-inducing volunteering solicitations. (I was raised Catholic and that organization is professionally guilt-inducing; nothing beats learning about original sin in the first grade.)
I’m not going to enjoy the final week of my children whining about all that didn’t happen this summer instead of concentrating on the things that did, telling each other that their favorite sibling is the cat and protesting every chore I suggest.
I’m just going to make a list of programs to binge-watch when school starts.