The end of summer (or at least the start of school)

The giggles of children being dressed for bed waft from the living room. I guiltily hunch over my computer and type into it trying to avoid being drawn into the bedtime dynamics. Its not that I do not love putting the little ones to bed or being part of that scene. In fact, I love every part of taking care of the littles. Tonight, though I do not want to be a mom. I'm not even really a mom but there are days that I feel as if I have all of the responsibilities of being a parent. As the prospect of school starts to loom closer and closer (35 hours and 40 minutes) I am beginning to panic.

I didn't have a vacation this summer. I never went away and sipped Margaritas on a beach or paddled fearlessly through class 5 rapids. I didn't even get away for twenty-four hours to read a book quietly or sing at the top of my lungs without having to worry about waking the baby. Yet, even as the panic of taking on even more responsibilities to my already full plate begins to make my heart beat faster and my body break out into a cold sweat I know that I did have a wonderful summer. I got to spend an afternoon here or there reading a good book, I baked some delicious pies, made a ton of cookies, learned how to sew (sort of ), spent a few evenings with good friends, and was hugged and kissed at least a thousand times by three wonderful children. It wasn't the summer I was hoping for or dreaming about but in the end it I think singing “Hush little baby” as a little bundle of joy snuggles into my lap a little bit more is much better than watching the sunset on a beach with a margarita. So I thank you summer for teaching me many things and bringing me much joy! I bid you farewell knowing that next year you will be teaching me all new hard and wonderful lessons.