I remember a TV ad when we were kids. It felt as though they aired it at the end of every summer. We laid about lazily in the living room in an unassuming slump of couch potato mass, when it flickered on in between Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain. For the record, we still to this day, loathe the maker of said commercial wherever they are, since it served as a sadistic reminder of what was about to return for children, everywhere.
Photo courtesy of Country Living via Brian Woodcock
The lyrics of “Goodbye for the Summer” echoed through the room and we were all suddenly quite sad.
My parents, in all fairness, probably notsomuch. I think all we heard was “Goodbye TO the Summer.” But that’s beside the point.
And the person behind this specific commercial, will forever be dubbed as a jerk. {Or a genius, as I admittedly, still remember it}. It always sent my little brother into not-so-subtle tears because, well, school. Upon googling said commercial, it popped up immediately. And then I shared it to his Facebook page because that’s what good siblings do. He’s probably crying at work right now.
I’m with him.
So whether you get exited about this…
Or you’re dreading it,
{For the record, I think we’re more like this:}
I have to say, much in protest to what feels like the general media saturation in rejoicing of parents everywhere, it is not the most wonderful time of the year – I am just not ready. I say this in the realization that I am probably in the minority here. I realize that structure, in a few weeks, will be something I am grateful for. But right now, the mass schedule of society is dragging me, kicking and screaming to their scheduled starting point.
I’ve never been less ready. I think that it means they’re another school-year older and I’m in complete denial. I’d almost drifted off into blissful sleep last night, after our oldest’s school night orientation, and realized we have a SEVENTH grader. Wasn’t he just in Kindergarten? And then I started counting on my fingers how many years WE HAVE LEFT until we have TO PAY FOR COLLEGE. Here are a few more reasons I’m not ready to interrupt our regularly scheduled and selfish {summer} program.
I have a ‘fake’ job.
We have the “luxury” of working from home, so we don’t require childcare all summer long. I don’t see how some parents pull it off, so I get it if you’re totally in the SEND THEM BACK camp. We all do what we have to do, but so much admiration for just functioning as a person and handling both. Working from home can also have its cons, and make it super challenging at times. I live in two worlds. There’s a delicate balance where people aren’t sure why I don’t head up the PTA, because what do I really do all day besides bon-bon eating and binging on The Price is Right? To be fair, it’s because unless I have a meeting, I’m in yoga pants or pajamas. It’s confusing, I know.
Who wears normal clothes at home? Total psychopaths, that’s who.
Therefore, I have a “fake job”. People make comments constantly about working moms and stay at home moms, throwing them into ridiculous categories like breastfeeding and non-breastfeeding, epidural and natural debates. Is this really still a thing – the competitive mom stuff? Aintnobodygottimeforthat. I feel a little left out in the whole stereotypical demographic because I can’t ‘pick a team’ as we’re so often forced to do. They’re all alive so I consider it a victory. I think homeschooling for three years merely complicated things in the antithesis of the status quo… because that makes us extra complicated. From forgetting to check their grades to being pretty lenient with the whole homework brigade… we’re feeling a bit anti-obligations.
The motivation does not exist.
I start nesting every year. It’s a thing. Like an expectant mother ready to go. It revs me up and I make stuff happen. From school clothes to back packs, I’m now waiting for a lull in our workload so I can tackle it all. But this year, it’s just not coming. The motivation and the lull. I have no desire. I have no energy to muster the purge. Organize their school supplies. Clean out the back packs from last spring {which I literally took and shoved into the hallway closet because I didn’t want to look at them all summer long}. They’re still there, waiting to fall on me in a deadly hoarders avalanche if I open the door.
The most we’ve done is tax-free weekend shopping. It’s a tradition for us every year. We even lost our minds and went to the candy store for a nice dose of gluttony-fied ‘Murica. Because candy store. {Who does that?! Yeah, we don’t get out much.} But those new clothes? Five days later, they’re still in bags on the floor. Mission accomplished. It’s all we can muster. Pull them from the bags and rip off the tags as you go, kids. Winning.
I’ve never had a Red Bull because I’m pretty sure I’d stroke out. Coffee is my limit. But I’d like to try something as a motivator kind of like jump starting labor. Is that the gateway drug to cocaine? The downward spiral? We are T-minus nine days and counting, people. And I could care less. I want to lounge by the pool and catch more fireflies and laze about with a movie and snuggles as soon as it rains. But I have to find my oldest’s locker mate. They need back-to-school haircuts and wellness check-ups. And instead of organizing and getting ready and all the other things, we’re soaking it up while we can. {And working, and complicating things by starting our own addition on the house, because let’s add to the chaos!}
We’re in total denial about the soon-to-happen school. At this rate, I’ll show up in my PJ’s on the first day. Which brings me to…
Need a little motivation? Be sure to check out our planner – it’s more to do on your to do list, which may actually get you started on your to do list. Planners are actually my gateway drug. Or maybe Coffee is the gateway drug to planners? I’ll stop now. It’s all fun and games until you have acid reflux.
People in the carpool line have Rabies. And Ebola.
The rabid monstrocity that is the carpool line. No, really. Let’s all hiss and make cross signs right now. It’s like the comments section of any big news story on Facebook, except it’s humanized by actual people. It’s a train wreck and we’re here for the show, y’all. Can we have a unified front on this topic? It’s not even the carpool line so much as everything it stands for in one parody of life. Because parents be cray.
The carpool line makes everyone’s IQ drop by at least 10 points, and it’s directly proportional to the kind of car you drive – Tiny sports cars double the loss. Stop trying to hard with your Aston Martin, and show up in a minivan like everyone else, Kevin. We were ready for the kids to be out at the beginning, so this should be the part where I skip them right back in. Nope. People legit have rabies and I don’t want to send them back. Because rabies. And ebola. Did I mention we have to go get our immunizations?
I may sound dismal and pessimistic. I call myself a cautious realist. From the dad who gets a little confused and drifts into the next lane, to the mom who can’t listen to the instructions and pull all the way up and not block the entire line because special snowflake. There’s a reason we’re all ready to blow a gasket by Fall Break. And let’s not forget the parent we will all hide from because she judges like the proverbial SNL Church Lady if we don’t sign up for ALL THE THINGS – she’s usually named something like Carol. As if she came out and her mom was all, “FUTURE PRESIDENT OF THE PTA!” and held her into the sun for all to see a-la the lion king.
JK if you’re my friend Carol, reading this. I think you’re amazing. Thanks for taking one for the team. Also, please stop passive aggressively asking me to make the robot juice boxes. They’re not happening.
This is my faith in humanity. In one big nicely-wrapped bow of metaphoric irony.
And I’ll be in my pajamas. Contributing to the entire thing in real style. Awkwardly helping where I can because I’m basically a terrible person.
Sleep training – it’s for the parents
We all have to start sleep training. Now. It’s like we’ve all reverted back to toddlerhood because I know it’s coming. Except this time instead of walking around like a zombie with sleepless children, it’s reversed. I’m forcing them all to muscle their way through the process. I personally, was doing really REHEALLY well in June. Probably the best we’ve ever done with the whole kids-at-home, we-don’t-have-to-wake-up-quite-so-early-thing. I was up at 6 ish every morning and came down into my office with one big happy cup of coffee to start the day. I felt like I was being responsible and reasonable and knocking them down on the list of life.
Jewels for my crown and other whatnots. I hope you can see my crown, Carol.
But somewhere in between Dollywood in July and our sixtieth pool partay, {along with a few good Netflix binges if we’re being honest}… I fell off the wagon and rolled around for a while, completely disoriented. Why does having a pool render you useless? The kids were going to bed at ten, and rolling out into reality at nine. And I was stumbling into good intentions in the form of a workout with a scary bun and coffee hangover.
STRUCTURE! I’m failing at it. That was me, trying. Do you know what all this means in T-minus nine days? It means we’re all going to DIE. We will miss the bus. I will have to do the carpool line. I will be the mom in my good intentions with no purging completed, donning my pajamas.
Homework can die.
Homework. Does this need an explanation? Do I need to write more here? Can we outlaw it? Burn it at the stake. Throw it out the window of a moving train. Put it in a shredder and then drown it in the ocean? I know it teaches them responsibility and gets them into college and stuff, but you know what else teaches them responsibility?
Not being MURDERED by their parents because MATH.
My own personal hell, is math.
Make it stop.
That is all.
God bless you teachers, everywhere.
Yes. I know I sound like a disgruntled Tiny Tim.
All heavily-placed sarcasm aside, God bless the most important people in this entire scenario: teachers, and faculty and all the people who work so hard to help educate and keep our children safe in the process. Because it’s you who will be putting up with my children. You who will be putting up with the fact that I forgot the Clorox Wipes I signed up for on orientation night until Christmas, and you who will be dealing with the rabid mom in the carpool line who is perpetually confused.
Maybe she’ll be wearing her pajamas.
Me. It’s probably me.
It takes a village, after all.
So high five, mom in your pajamas. High five, anti-status quo mid life crisis sports car driving Kevin. And high five to you, Carol. {Disclaimer: All of these people are completely made up, sans the Aston Martin thing. I’m so not a car person, I totes thought it was a Mustang. #unculturedswine}
I stand, kind of trying, but mostly tired and torn with all the feelings, right beside you. I need like, 6 more weeks of Summer. And a complete relocation to Tahiti.
Deep breath. Happy thoughts. Here we go.
Because it is not the most wonderful time of the year.
Rachel Scarvey says
I am 100% with you! #notready I am the PTA President ironically and I have no desire for summer to end. Every other year, I’m loving the idea of a minute to myself sans my entourage. But this year, we’ve had a truly wonderful summer and I don’t want it to end! We didn’t kill each other and we yelled and argued less and generally just enjoyed each other more. Other than the humidity and the enormous amounts of sweat, summer has been perfect!
Amy says
I couldn’t agree more! With all of it. Mostly cuz I just like hanging out with my kids all summer. And while it would be nice to have like an hour by myself between June and September, I’m ok with waiting and get depressed thinking about them being another grade older and starting the long slog til summer again. Haha. (My oldest will be in 7th too- WHAT?!)
ashley @ the handmade home says
EXACTLY! Heaven forbid I actually enjoy having them around 👀 this was the best summer ever. Not ready! 😭
Carrie says
I married a math teacher~ it’s good to know strengths and weaknesses when it comes to child rearing and homework, right?? Science and English~ ME. History and Math? Dad. And, btw: M.A.T.H = Mental Anguish To Humans.
🙂
Monica says
Feeling lucky that we live in New England (just north of Boston), where schold ends in late June but does not begin until after Labor Day! I don’t get why kids in southern states go back so early, are not July and August the hottest month everywhere in the US? HAve never understoody why kids get out in the beginning of May in other parts of the country!
Monica says
I was very curious about the August start dates and had to look into this further – turns out this IS a relatively newish thing (until the 1980s-1990’s most schools started after aAbor Day)and that the primary driver appears to be related to being able to have more time to teach students before state testing in the spring. Talk about “teaching to the test” this is an extreme example! Here is an article with explanation: https://www.cnn.com/2015/08/04/living/school-start-dates-august-parents-feat/index.html
Rita says
Check out the “School Drop-Off Line” song written by a local parent (and worship leader) about his carpool line experience…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4kysx8ASD1Y
Kathleen says
I am not ready for school either ! The earlier bed times, forms to fill out, lunches to pack….blech !
ruby says
ok, this just made me laugh out loud, and i am reading it in April!! my children are grown with children of their own, i used to teach school, and i was probably carol at some point….but i HATED the beginning of school!! i loved having my ducks home with me all the long lazy days of summer, staying up late and sleeping late. i loathed, and still do, back to school ads of any sort!! what a fun summer your children must have had with a fun, witty mom like you!….and now there’s another one coming pretty soon!!