Day one of summer break. I thought the kids might sleep in, enjoy the freedom of no set schedule, no hurried showers, no last-minute “I forgot you have to sign this” paper shuffle. There’s no need to rush to the bus stop with untied shoelaces flapping as I yell (yet again) for them to look both ways before crossing the street. It’s summer, man. Time to relax.
Instead, the twins were up around 6-ish this morning. Old habits die hard, I guess.
Even Louie the Wonder Pup is confused by the fact that the kids are still around on a Monday. He keeps bumping his nose into my leg as if to say “Are they supposed to be here?”
It’s not like we don’t have things to do. Today, I have a list of appointments, errands and tasks, but we’re starting with mucking out their backpacks that are chock-full of God-knows-what. I made the mistake of peeking in one of them over the weekend, and I found candy wrappers, torn and crushed papers and notes, old markers, scissors, broken crayons, and bits of fluff. The folders that were once so pristine are completely decimated, and don’t even get me started on the billions of teeny pencils. For some reason, the kids love to use pencils that have been ground all the way down to the silver eraser holder. I don’t get it.
Already this morning:
- We’ve had an argument about absolutely nothing at all.
- I’ve gotten off track by looking through old photos with my kids. Not sure how we even started looking at that….
- When I finally cloistered myself in my office to get a bit of work done, I heard the tap-tap-tapping of a little hand on the door with a “Whatchya doing, Mom?”
- There have been no less than two pleas for homemade cookies.
- I’ve been informed that A) there’s positively nothing to read here, so B) we need to go to the library stat.
- I’ve also been advised that one of my kids would like to start whittling. As in with a knife. Unsupervised.
Just a note about that last one. Whittling is not going to happen on my watch. That one will need to wait until their father comes home. My rule is “No one goes to the E.R. on the first day of summer vacation.”