August is the Sunday of Summer

I've been hearing this sentiment crop up all over as summer enters its final stretch. These days Margaret is deep into field hockey practice for high school (gulp) and I'm in limbo-land before the paperback of Rare Bird comes out.

Some attribute this quotation to Ellen Degeneres because of a recent tweet, but not in our house!

You see, Jack made this statement at least 5 years ago, and I blogged about it and other random things the kids were talking about, including Margaret's antipathy for things that started with the letter C.  Note: In posts pre-accident, I referred to Jack as Jake and Margaret as Molly.

Check out that old post to get a glimpse of our family's life.

I hope you are having a great Sunday of the Summer!

Friday Hodge-Podge

I've had a hard time writing because I'm in an August funk. While I'm looking forward to having more time to devote to my job and to myself once the kids are in school, I'm not looking forward to all of the schlepping here and there, the homework trauma, and the weekends full of sports.
Jake can relate and he proclaims, "August is the Sunday of the summer."

You nailed it, kid. When I was teaching school I could NOT enjoy Sundays because all I could do was think about what I should be doing to get ready for school the next day.

Adding to our August-angst is my annual pilgrimage down the "Where should I send the kids to school" road? Yes, I know school starts in mere DAYS, and most other parents would have figured this out by, say, last June. I know that if it is causing me stress, it must also be causing Molly (the kid in question this year) stress too. My friends won't even talk to me about it, because they've been there with me before, and before, and before.

I have been praying that God would give me a clear sign about where to send Molly-- to the public school she attended last year, or the private one she attended the 3 years prior. Sunday morning I sat in church and the pastor used a certain word in his sermon no fewer than 15 times, and the word just happened to be the NAME OF THE PRIVATE SCHOOL!

Here's the thing, the school's name is a word found in the Bible, so it's not like the pastor was saying, "Miss Junie's Finishing School," but it's not super-common word like, say, Jesus or Faith. I was taken aback. Like, "God, is this my sign? Seriously? The two schools and school experiences are so utterly different I need a CLEAR sign, Dude."

Now if a brick had hit me on the head as I left church and the brick had etched in it "Miss Junie's Finishing School" I would GET it, but this? I just don't know what to make of this.

So we have that issue.
We also have Molly's Triple-C's. She announced that she HATES "Cats, Clowns, and Canada." I kind of get the first two, but Canada? No explanation forthcoming from Molly, and I would like to apologize to my dear Canadian readers. I promise I am not a Canada-basher. She actually fake-spat when she saw a maple leaf yesterday. I'm so sorry.

Not much else to report except Tom and I are having a stand-off between gray (his choice) and black (my choice) shingles for our new roof. Roof guys are ready to go, but they need our decision. I know black is not energy efficient, but it looks nice. Thoughts? Please weigh in.

If you would like to make our school decision, shingle decision, and figure out a way to cure Molly's Xenophobia, I'd be grateful. Not too much to ask for a Friday afternoon, right?

I know you can do it! I am still laughing over the descriptions you came up with to describe my sitting next to the sex blogger at dinner. Check 'em out in the comments section.

The Final Countdown

As our summer wound down, Jake said, “Mom, August is the Sunday of Summer.”

I wasn’t sure of what he meant, but he explained that rather than being able to enjoy August, the flurry of school supply shopping, haircuts, and general back to school angst generally put us into a funk, unable to savor a perfectly good month. Likewise, Sunday can be depressing because what a few hours before had been a weekend full of promise is now winding down all too quickly.

As a teacher, I could relate because I used to struggle mightily with both August and Sundays. Now that I have a “regular” job, I enjoy them both.

Here’s hoping you are able to live in the moment today, and that your Sunday doesn’t feel too much like “August.”