It’s funny how life ebbs and flows and one season changes into the next. Someone really knew what they were doing when they orchestrated this whole “life” thing.
Two months ago I longed for summer. I was crying mercy. Begging for a break. Pleeaaassseee don’t make me get in the car for preschool and grade school drop-offs and pick-ups. Pack another lunch. Give another practice spelling test. Sign another permission slip.
Summer break came and offered it’s sweet release from the imprisonment of all these schedules. The expectations. The have-to-do’s.
I started the summer off as Pinterest mom of the year. The kids and I were road tripping with pre-packed snacks and games. I made a “NorCal bucket list” and took my kids on day trips to local sites: Pier 39, the beach, museums…you name it. On our home days I had schedules and activities. We did play doh and face paint and fun math games. Gawd I was a good summer mom. If summer break was 8 weeks long, I would’ve ended on a high note. Stood for my round of applause and accepted that award as “mom of the year”.
Instead it’s 3 months long. I’m out of steam. I’ve got nothing left and I beg the powers that be to open those classroom doors!
I’m done with swimming lessons and extended bed times, with too much tv, with “can ‘so & so’ spend the night?”. I’m even done with daylight savings. Get dark already!!!
I’m exhausted. I sprinted instead of power-walked and now I’m crawling to the finish line.
I crave a schedule. A routine. Some set activities. Soccer practice? I’ll gladly drive! Homework. Yes please. Reasonable bedtimes? Gimme gimme!!!
So I surrender.
Summer mom retires. I’ll be back next year in all of my awesomeness.