It’s August, and the back to school rush is starting (at least in normal states, in Michigan we have a ridiculous law which puts tourism ahead of education, thanks Michigan, glad to know education is prioritized).
The first day of school is my favorite. It’s like a holiday. In fact, it trumps Christmas as the absolute best day of the year. I am already seeing back to school posts across my social media and man am I jealous! I have almost five weeks yet until the big yellow bus shows up to whisk my kids off for the day. I never realized that 5 weeks could stretch before me as an eternity, well, at least not since last summer.
I love my kids, I do, it’s just that I like them best when I get breaks, when their brains are stimulated, and they have structure above and beyond anything I can offer in these four walls. It’s not that I don’t try. I stock up on fun things to do for summer. I load the iPads with learning apps, and I get my kids out and about to experience the world. It’s just that 12 weeks is a freaking long time to keep this up. Even under the best of circumstances, when I remember to make them read and write every day (which I don’t) there’s serious summer learning loss. And summer math? Yeah, I make Ben count things all day, does that count as math?
My kids are sick of each other. They’ve played with every game and toy a million times over, and they’re just plain bored. It doesn’t help that I am too. I’m ready for time to myself, to do a few projects, to find a girlfriend or two and have coffee and catch up. Where is the break in summer break anyway, I could really use it about now.
Then I see moms that are sad to see their kids go, and I feel guilty. What do they have that I don’t? Why is summer bliss over there when we’re fit to be tied over here? Could you wonderful summer moms just bottle some of that bliss up and send it my way, because we ran out of that jazzy stuff in June.
I’ll hang on, and so will my kids. They’ll probably be even happier than I am when that bus door closes on their hind ends. Thankfully my kids love school, and thrive there.
So to you moms, like me, who are dying for that first day of school, I raise my torch to you, in solidarity. You are my tribe, my crew, and together we’ll make it through these last few weeks, come hell or high water, with an excellent likelihood of both.