I’m just going to put this right out there: am I the only mother not cartwheeling in delight at the thought of summer vacation? At the thought that tomorrow is the last day of school? At the incomprehensible notion that my two offspring will now be home seven days a week for ten consecutive weeks?
I have The Dread. It’s the truth, people.
Is it because Rowan will surely repeat, “What can I dooooooo?” in twelve-minute increments beginning tomorrow at 3:39 p.m. and continuing until 9 a.m. August 16?
Is it because the percentage of burps and guffaws and conversations including the words “bum” and “poop” will increase substantially over the next ten weeks?
Is it because when the thermometer tops 85 degrees Noah will collapse into a sweaty heap and complain that he can’t sleep because his legs are too sticky?
Is it because Rowan will beg to play Super Mario Brothers from the moment his toes touch the floor at 7 a.m. until the second he hits the pillow at 8 p.m. for 80 days straight?
Did you answer “All of the Above?”
Dingdingding! You are correct – all those reasons and then some!
Oh, and did I mention I’ll be eeking out the time to write five blog posts a week about God and faith amidst burps and toots and chatter about bums?
I’m not making any promises here…but it could get ugly.
…80 more days … I think I’ll go mix up a pitcher of margaritas…
Come on, admit it: who’s with me here? Who has even the teeniest bit of dread that summer vacation has arrived?
*Of course, pictures like the one of Rowan from last summer just *might* make me change my tune about summer. I remember that day clearly -- he had a blast! [and so did I!]