School starts in about 40 hours, not that I’m counting down or anything. I’ve spent most of the summer starting at our calendar with longing. As much as I love working from home with two children home, I also hate it nearly as much. The kids always seem to get their loudest when I need them at their quietest. My older son has learned when to strategically ask to play Wii or for a popsicle – usually when I’m engrossed in the middle of a conference call. He’s learned that the shooing of my hands means for him to “Do whatever you want that will keep you quiet and won’t burn the house down!”
And yet, after a summer’s worth of wishing he was back in school, I find myself sad that I won’t get to see him every day. Every day this summer, I’ve stared at him like “Didn’t I just feed you yesterday?” when he asks what’s for lunch. And now, I find myself sad that I won’t be able to make him lunch anymore. Summer is the only time my son wants to eat my food for lunch. In the school year, he’s all about the hot lunch.
This past weekend, we packed in as much summer fun as we could muster. A trip to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk with his best friend. A chilly cold visit to the San Francisco Zoo as a family. Even a pony ride and face painting at a company picnic on a 101 degree day at Coyote Ranch, couldn’t remove this dreadful feeling that I’ve been a Summertime Scrooge.
School starts in 40 hours and I plan on doing a different countdown now. Instead of celebrating the start of school, we are going to celebrate the end of summer. With a trip to the pool, an afternoon playing video games, and as many popsicles as one eight-year-old can stomach.
We’re squeezing the last drops of summer. Who’s with us?
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