As we pass by Memorial Day and enter June I find we are living in a strange Purgatory.
Summer is here, for all intents and purposes. The kids have summer swim team practice after school at the local pool. Baseball and soccer practices are ramping up and the minivan carpools are being sorted and finalized. The smell of grilling meats wafts through the neighborhood any day of the week – the chefs no longer content to keep flame-broiled goodness as a weekend only treat.
And yet, it is not summer.
School is still on. There is homework to be done. And in our county they saved all those wonderful basic skills tests to be given right now. Plus there are the band concerts, orchestra concerts, choir concerts, art shows, club trips to theme parks, and final functions that are scheduled for 6:30pm on the most inconvenient night of the week with unerring accuracy.
It’s like we are living two different lives at the same time.
And bizarre. Today, for example, I took the boys to swimming at our local pool. It was 87 degrees out. The sun was shining. The boys were playing in the pool and then started swim team practice. I was lounging with my friends, gossiping and reconnecting, and then suddenly I was gripped with the realization that (a) I had to get the kids home and feed them at some point and that (b) they also had to go to bed at their usual hour for school. And, OMG, they probably had homework.
It was an icy splash of water, my friends.
Because it is supposed to be summer. It certainly feels like summer. It’s hot, sticky, and I have the urge to brew sun-tea. Plus it’s not dark out until 8:30pm and I want to enjoy those extra hours of vitamin D filled sunshine.
I know my kids feel the same way.
“Whaddayamean I need a lunch for tomorrow? There’s still school?”
“It can’t be time for bed already!”
We are in a state of disbelief, stress, panic, and desperation.
Just how you want to start summer, isn’t it?
But we’ll get through it. It’s only 3 weeks.
Holy Saint Peter! I have to do this for 3 weeks???
Send reinforcements and beer.