School’s out for summer
For months now Iíve been desperate for school to be over. I grew weary of the notes sent home concerning the behavior of my children; one actually included a description of my daughter crouching under her desk and hissing at her substitute teacher because she didnít want to do what was being asked at that moment in time. My son has collected an amazing amount of girlsí phone numbers and spends the rest of his time fantasizing about which basketball team he will play on in the future. His dad and I are his constant reality check concerning his lackluster performance in the education department. In fact, he just earned back the use of his bike, dresser, and personal effects after having been grounded for about two months. Now that summer has been in full force for a whole week, I canít wait for school to start back. I suppose Iím just never happy and the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Literally, at my house, it is greener on the other side because we have quite a bit of sand in our yard. This past week was special for both children because they were signed up for exciting camps concerning their favorite interests: basketball for my son and cheerleading for my daughter. What it meant for my husband, Chris, and I was a lot of running around and trying to figure out schedules.I have to say that I did get to sleep in late which was worth every extra slumbering minute. Waking up at 4 in the morning on work days and 6:30 on school days is tiresome. I swear I can see bags forming under my eyes with each passing week even though people swear I donít look like Iíll be 40 this year. One thing I found amusing in a sarcastically ironic way was that it seemed to be pouring rain almost every day this week at some point in time that I was either dropping off or picking up on of the kids. I feared for my life and theirs as lightning struck all around us and the wind whipped by at questionably strong speeds. Ever since my phone squawked out those tornado alerts at all hours of the day during that tropical storm, Andrea, last week, Iím on high alert for bad business with the weather. My son loved the basketball camp, but my daughter thoroughly enjoyed that cheerleader camp at Sebring High School. She came home every day and practiced her new cheers with enthusiasm and could not wait to return the next day. I left work early on Thursday to watch final program which would display all their talents and, I have to admit, I was pretty excited to see her perform with the other girls. Her group went last and my daughter spent most of her time distracted with the knot on her shirt; the one she insisted on having tied like the other cheerleaders. She checked it constantly like a person with obsessive compulsive disorder and I think this is why she seemed to forget some of her moves. Then she pushed a little girl down. It looked accidental, but the best laid plans usually are. The girls just tumbled into one another and mine chose to use the other girl as support to hold herself upright. Thatís what happened and Iím sticking to it. Next week, they start a fulltime summer program. I can barely contain my excitement.