There is something about August that makes me sketchy. It is some sort of backwards seasonal affective disorder. It can’t be the weather. I grew up in Florida. Every day was like August here in DC. I suspect it is something much simpler. I think it is because I ever year I am convinced that I am going to be able to handle working from home in the summer without sending the kids to camp.
Yeah, I see the errors of my ways.
Every year I tell myself, oh they will be at swim team all day.
That would work really well if swim team lasted more than 55 minutes each day. It doesn’t. I would at least have those 55 minutes if my daughter didn’t insist on my being present for each practice. That didn’t happen either.
It also doesn’t last beyond the first week of August. My county doesn’t go back to school until after Labor Day. There is a huge back hole in my child care plan.
I think, my kids are so big this year! They will be self sufficient.
They are eight. I am delusional. Eight year olds are not self sufficient. My particular children talk pretty much constantly.
I say, of course we can come visit. I work from home. I can work from anywhere.
I can’t. Well, I could if the people I was visiting didn’t expect me to, you know, visit. Or if my kids could go places without me. Or if my dad didn’t keep saying “Are you done writing yet? How long does it take to write something? When is your deadline?” It is like having extra kids.
I think, if the kids want to go to the pool I can write from the pool. The pool has wifi!
Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha hahahahahahahaha.
The real, true problem is that I end up doing everything poorly. I only work about 80% of the time I should and so I feel like I am constantly scrambling to accomplish everything. Worse than that, I spend all summer feeling like a terrible mother. I know I am not giving my kids the attention they need and deserve.
I don’t know what the laws are here in Virginia, but I am pretty sure the only solution is securing a sister-wife before May.
Or, you know, a very cheap babysitter.
So welcome, fall. Bring on the cold. Bring on the snow. Bring on the school days and the homework and the parent teacher conferences. I welcome your peace, and I know that when I have had all day to conduct my business (not a euphemism) I will be able give my kids my full attention when they get home.
* * *
More of me on That’s Right. You Heard Me: