When it Rains...
It's a good thing we had such a lazy summer because school starts on Monday and with it, the entire fall schedule. I got an email the other day that the first volleyball practise is on Monday afternoon and choir starts on Thursday. So not only does The Child have to start hitting the books, all the extracurriculars that go with being her are thumping their way onto the calendar.
Every year, as the summer runs down, it occurs to me that we should start simulating the "regular schedule": eat dinner before 8 o'clock, have The Child's lights out before 10. But it didn't happen. She's just going to have to adjust. We are all going to have to adjust. I've been pretty lazy the last few weeks, too. I haven't been getting up as early and staying up way, way past my bedtime. Oh well.
Meanwhile, I've already logged about 15 volunteer hours for Parent Club stuff. There's no rest for the wicked, as they say.
Sometimes I try to imagine what it's going to be like, when The Child is out of the house (which she believes will be roughly on or around the day she turns 18) and there isn't a school calendar to dictate my agenda. I have a sense that it won't make a lot of difference. Sure, I won't have to supervise homework and shuttle her to things, but the academic year is so ingrained that I can hardly imagine operating without it.
For about 3 years after I graduated college I still worked on campus. Even though it was a full-time, 9-5 gig, the return of students to campus signaled the "start" of the year. Summer in the office was slower paced. Then September arrived, with all the bustle and crowds in the bookstore and even though I wasn't taking classes I too felt like a new year was beginning. It was years before that "new pencils and notebooks" feeling subsided. And just about the time I didn't feel the buzz of it anymore, I had a kid and within a few short years, it all came back to me.
Anyhoo, here's the gameplan for the weekend:
The Spouse is working on a movie so The Child and I are going to eat disgusting "daddy's gone" food for dinner, like pigs in a blanket and macaroni & cheese. Chick flicks will be involved.
The Child and I also have to review her supplies list. We went shopping very early in the summer and she has had her moments of taking everything out of her backpack and showing it off to friends. We have to make sure everything we bought is still in the house and get it back into her pack. We also have to go over to The Neighbor's this evening to measure her uniform pants for a new hem. (I'm not a sew-y kind of gal. The Neighbor is. Thank heaven).
I'm meeting an old friend (ok, I once had a huge pash on him) for breakfast this morning. He lives in the Bay Area now, has 2 kids around the ages of The Child. We have always been in touch but I haven't seen him since The Child was a year old. It should be very nice to see his fat face (inside joke, I'm not being insulting).
Tomorrow I have to do some Parent Club stuff, meet The Bride for coffee (probably our last just-hanging-out fling before she enters into wedded bliss) and have my eyes checked so I can get back into contact lenses before The Wedding. (Can't wear that fab LBD with all that fab jewelry looking like a schoolmarm, now can I?) The Child is going to the county fair, or maybe it's the state fair, with friends until late. Why don't I know whether it's a state or county fair? Because I don't like fairs. Bore me silly. How many prize Gurnseys can one person look at in a lifetime? I thank God every day that there are people in this world who want to go and take my child with them so I don't have to go. Blech. The Neighbor and I are going to have dinner together.
Sunday is church, as per usual, and The Child is going to a birthday party and then, wham, it'll be Bloody Mary Monday and the school year will be here. Let the games begin.
Every year, as the summer runs down, it occurs to me that we should start simulating the "regular schedule": eat dinner before 8 o'clock, have The Child's lights out before 10. But it didn't happen. She's just going to have to adjust. We are all going to have to adjust. I've been pretty lazy the last few weeks, too. I haven't been getting up as early and staying up way, way past my bedtime. Oh well.
Meanwhile, I've already logged about 15 volunteer hours for Parent Club stuff. There's no rest for the wicked, as they say.
Sometimes I try to imagine what it's going to be like, when The Child is out of the house (which she believes will be roughly on or around the day she turns 18) and there isn't a school calendar to dictate my agenda. I have a sense that it won't make a lot of difference. Sure, I won't have to supervise homework and shuttle her to things, but the academic year is so ingrained that I can hardly imagine operating without it.
For about 3 years after I graduated college I still worked on campus. Even though it was a full-time, 9-5 gig, the return of students to campus signaled the "start" of the year. Summer in the office was slower paced. Then September arrived, with all the bustle and crowds in the bookstore and even though I wasn't taking classes I too felt like a new year was beginning. It was years before that "new pencils and notebooks" feeling subsided. And just about the time I didn't feel the buzz of it anymore, I had a kid and within a few short years, it all came back to me.
Anyhoo, here's the gameplan for the weekend:
The Spouse is working on a movie so The Child and I are going to eat disgusting "daddy's gone" food for dinner, like pigs in a blanket and macaroni & cheese. Chick flicks will be involved.
The Child and I also have to review her supplies list. We went shopping very early in the summer and she has had her moments of taking everything out of her backpack and showing it off to friends. We have to make sure everything we bought is still in the house and get it back into her pack. We also have to go over to The Neighbor's this evening to measure her uniform pants for a new hem. (I'm not a sew-y kind of gal. The Neighbor is. Thank heaven).
I'm meeting an old friend (ok, I once had a huge pash on him) for breakfast this morning. He lives in the Bay Area now, has 2 kids around the ages of The Child. We have always been in touch but I haven't seen him since The Child was a year old. It should be very nice to see his fat face (inside joke, I'm not being insulting).
Tomorrow I have to do some Parent Club stuff, meet The Bride for coffee (probably our last just-hanging-out fling before she enters into wedded bliss) and have my eyes checked so I can get back into contact lenses before The Wedding. (Can't wear that fab LBD with all that fab jewelry looking like a schoolmarm, now can I?) The Child is going to the county fair, or maybe it's the state fair, with friends until late. Why don't I know whether it's a state or county fair? Because I don't like fairs. Bore me silly. How many prize Gurnseys can one person look at in a lifetime? I thank God every day that there are people in this world who want to go and take my child with them so I don't have to go. Blech. The Neighbor and I are going to have dinner together.
Sunday is church, as per usual, and The Child is going to a birthday party and then, wham, it'll be Bloody Mary Monday and the school year will be here. Let the games begin.
Labels: cheese, The Neighbor, volleyball
cobbled together by Moi at 8:46 AM
8 Comments:
My face is not fat!
Sounds like a packed weekend.
Is your husband a movie star?
Also, be grateful you start school so late. Kids here have been in session since the middle of August.
Sewing machine primed and ready Cap'n! See you tonight. Bring wine (I promise the hems will not be affected).
xo nayb
old habits die hard.
I still put hospital corners on my bed,just like basic training.
OF, Yes it is but it's lovable anyway.
Renee, No, he just plays one on TV. (He's doing electrical work for a friend's indy production). And I think starting school before Labor Day should be outlawed.
Nayb: You are, I've said it before, the best. EVAH.
Charlie: I've no doubt. I've watched it with Dame Judi and then again with my sister, Martha Stewart. I think, when the time comes, I'll just go to Glasgow and ask you and S1 to distract me with pies and Neds.
Sling: I suppose there are worse fates than feeling the urge to buy new pencils ever September.
And of course, I meant "every" September.
We've been in school for about a month now. I hate it every year.
I repeat, school should NOT start in August. Only once did The Child have to go back before Labor Day. But it was sick and wrong.
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