I am going to go ahead and give a forewarning to whoever is the teacher in charge at drop-off next week at my kids’ school.
You are going to have to excuse me while I pull out of the way and do a hands -to-the-heavens Hallelujah, followed by a possible Irish dance in the parking lot.
Yes, school is about to start, and I am thrilled.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore my kids. And they have a had a pretty laidback, free-for-all summer. But it’s time to get back to business.
My nerves, my sanity and my checkbook can no longer take this summer break.
Many of us parents look like something off the set of The Walking Dead here lately. Summer has caught up with us as we limp around like zombies with a far-off gaze and droopy lip.
When summer first began, I was motivated. I had a list of awesome crafts and projects for the kids to do while at home.
I had a detailed reading list to keep them on their toes during their off months.
I had cleats, gloves, bats, uniforms and ample supplies of bubblegum for the endless Little League games heading our way.
I had itineraries and maps laid out for wild adventures and journeys into the unknown.
That motivation lasted about a week.
I was pulled in every direction. I was shoving one kid out of a moving vehicle for ball practice while the other one arrived at ballet lessons on two wheels.
The reading list was rolled up and used to kill a horsefly that got loose in the truck.
Those neat uniforms and equipment? By the end of the first month, white cleats were now brown and yes, those were slushie stains on the front of the uniforms.
Vacation? What’s that? Are you kidding me? Why would I pile all my kids and a mountain of luggage in a truck for a six-hour drive?
My friends shared photographs of beach resorts and stunning sunsets. I showed off a photograph of my kids filling the back of the truck bed into a makeshift swimming pool. My youngest “photobombed” the moment as he used the bathroom off the front porch.
I made it through the workdays on three hours of sleep because summer means late movie nights and slumber parties with sugar and chaos.
I cried alone in the bathroom on two occasions because I nearly broke my foot on a Lego toy and fell over a kid’s bike with groceries in my arms.
I lived in baseball hats and gym pants for two months because I had two baseball games, one dance recital, a family reunion and a birthday party to make, usually in one afternoon. I was hustling like an Olympic runner to get to everything.
My husband? Who is he?
We have lived two different lives this summer. I went one way with two kids while he went the other with our eldest.
And wouldn’t you know it...when I returned home with gum in my hair and a horsefly bite on my face, and kids under my arms...my dear hubby was fishing on the pond in front of the house.
Granted, it was summer and I got my fair share of leisure time in. But every girl’s night out was interrupted by a frantic phone call from home. Apparently, I am the only one who knows where diapers, baby wipes, paper towels, toilet paper and fruit snacks are in our house.
I did manage to sleep late a few mornings this summer. But I would wake to spilled Kool-Aid on the floor, Lucky Charms in the fish tank, underwear in the toilet and peanut butter on the remote.
But my husband said “everything was under control.”
Yes, this was another summer for the books. The Patterson family survived it, and made some fun memories despite the chaos.
So, I ask that all teachers have pity on my crew when they arrive in the school hallways.
Yes, their socks may not match. Yes, they are reusing old markers. Yes, that’s might be leaves in their hair.
Have mercy. It’s a been a long, hot summer.
