Another school year. And once again, I’m not ready. I love summer. I actually enjoy hanging out with my kids, and I am reluctant to turn them back over to their teachers. They’re mine! So I’m here to whine about the stuff I am missing out on.
I miss afternoons at the grocery store alone. Girl-child is now quite old enough to be responsible for her brothers while I shop. I still hated the shopping part, but without anyone to entertain, I could get it done in record time.
I miss spontaneous trips to anywhere, staying up as late as we wanted because there was nowhere we had to be the next morning.
I miss afternoons free of automated calls. I have kids in two different schools, and I hear from at least one of them a day announcing everything from a football game to a partnership with a pizza chain, along with at least once-a-week verbal diarrhea from the school
supreme monarch superintendent. Seriously. The calls are several minutes long. I now hang up by 58 seconds. Because I know I’m about to receive an email with the same information, sometimes as an audio file in case I enjoy listening to someone drone on about the cost of yearbooks. Also because I can’t focus on a one-sided phone call for any longer than that without starting to ponder what I’m going to make for dinner.
I miss an inbox without school updates. You know, the same ones they just called about? One school also sends me daily updates to keep me abreast of the Bone of the Week. Yep. Five different reminders, same old femur. Last year I got automated daily reminders that my son had not turned in his homework, which would have been useful except that school had been out for a week, and the alleged homework had apparently been assigned the day after school ended.
I miss my kids bickering in the background. Because it was always followed up by spontaneous gestures of affection.
I miss the Suburban that used to nearly hit us everyday when we walked to school last year. Their child must have graduated to the middle school, as we have seen neither hide nor hair of them this year. What can I say? I’m a nostalgic sap.
How many more school days until summer?