Hi. Happy summer. Or whatever season it is where you are.  Here, it’s summer.
Typically, I hate summer. Summer means 24/7 mom duty.  I do not look forward to 24/7 mom duty. I love my kids, but not every second of every day.

 

So, when summer starts, I start a countdown. A countdown to when school starts back up.

 

We’re at 55 days.  Less than two months, and I can have my living room back.

 

The truth is, this summer has not sucked as hard as summers past.  There are a couple reasons for this.

 

First, somehow, the Drama Queen and Miss Poopie Pants have stopped fighting. Not altogether, but for the most part.  Right now, in fact, they are outside playing with the hose.

 

Aside, I refuse to let summer come again until I have a mother fucking pool.  Hope you’re reading, Mr. Sasha.

 

Another thing this summer has going for it is copious amounts of planning on my part.  We’re three weeks into summer and I’ve heard “Mom!!!! I’m BORED!” exactly ONCE, minions.

 

ONCE.

 

This is because, in anticipation of the long boring days of summer, I spent the last week of school putting together my BORED BOX.

 

Sure, there’s fun stuff in there. Stuff like bubbles and playing in the sprinkler and pretending you’re a princess who has to slay a dragon.

 

But there’s not so fun stuff in there, too. Making beds, cleaning floors, weeding gardens.

 

No one wants to tell me they’re bored for fear they’ll get stuck cleaning out the hamster cage. Smart girls, I have.

 

Here’s something else that’s awesome about this summer.  I suddenly find myself with a circle of IRL friends.  It’s been a long time since I had a circle of IRL friends.

 

We get together as much as we can, and we do it without kids as often as possible. This. Is. Awesome.

 

BUT. I am still counting down till school.

 

It’s kind of my thing.

 

I’m looking forward to school. Not just because my kids will be gone for six hours or so, either. I have lots of reasons for looking forward to school.

 

School means I can work more. Both at writing and at my part time job.  The more I work, the more money I make. The more money I make, the more fun things I can buy.

 

Like movie tickets. Or tequila.

 

School means my house will be clean again.  Over the summer, the whirling dervishes that are my daughters leave their stuff every freaking where. But, once they’re out of the house for several hours at a clip without me, I can put their stuff away, and get rid of the crap they don’t play with anymore, with no one being the wiser.

 

School means I can run up the street to the supermarket to get something I just realized I need for dinner tonight without needing an act of Congress.  It also means that there is a much better chance of me actually having everything I need for dinner in the first place, because I can go grocery shopping alone, paying attention to only my list and not The Flying Karamazov Sisters.

 

They will, someday, sneak past me and leap from the top shelf. I just hope we’re not in the glassware aisle when it happens.

 

School means my dog and I can take our walks at the pace we prefer, instead of the snail pace my kids prefer.

 

School means the weather is going to cool the fuck down. That, in and of itself, is enough of a reason to look forward to school.

 

To be perfectly honest, there are parts of school that I am not looking forward to.  Getting up early, homework, fighting over whether or not they’re allowed to wear a certain outfit to school. These are all things that suck.

 

But they are greatly trumped by the advantages of my kids going to school. At least, for me.

 

So, to my teacher friends who are so pissed off at me for counting down the days till summer’s gone, bite me.

 

If you’re not looking forward to going back to work even a little bitty bit, why on earth are you a teacher anyway?

 

And to my mom friends who simply can’t believe that I don’t relish every single moment of my summer with my kids, bite me.

 

I do enjoy my time with my kids. I just enjoy it a lot more when I have some time away from them, too.

 

And to Mr. Sasha, who doesn’t freak out when he gets home and the house is a mess and dinner isn’t made and the kids are naked and I haven’t showered, thanks.

 

Also, get on that pool thing.