We are trudging through the eternal school year. Tomorrow is the last day and honestly, I wasn’t sure it would ever arrive.
The year has flown by but the last few weeks? Not so much.
I identified with every hysterical word of Jen Hatmaker’s “Worst End of School Year Mom Ever” post that has probably gone viral many times over.
We too are “limping across the finish line” folks. These are things I just didn’t understand during my oblivious years as a homeschool mom. There were no end of year gifts and festivities. Some years, when I was especially exhausted, we simply quit altogether and I hid under my bed while the kids supervised themselves in the yard. That was our end of the year party.
Between many, many parties and cheerleading tryouts {two words I never thought I’d find myself typing} and appointments and my own hangover {figuratively of course} from my 40th birthday festivities, I’m kind of done with virtuous motherhood and its many polite responsibilities.
My youngest is eating Apple Jacks {Apple Jacks!} on top of the kitchen counter while I type this.
Why? Because the kitchen table is covered with laundry.
Needful things are not making it on the grocery lists, some of us have given up wearing underpants altogether, and my kids had FroYo for dinner last night. Swear.
But perhaps the most shameful confession of all? A certain youngest child in our family has been forced to wear “special diapers” to bed for three nights because I cannot for the life of me remember to purchase pull-ups.
Is the “special diaper” an overnight maxi pad adhered inside Spiderman underwear?
{Yes, we are putting away money now for his inevitable therapy.}
Somehow I have no recollection of yearbook orders so this mom failed to order her very sentimental, very social son the elementary school yearbook he so desperately wanted. The yearbook company is shipping me one and it will hopefully arrive today. {Yay for paying shipping costs on a $20 yearbook for your 3rd grader!}
I have a sneaking suspicion that summer breaks were created just so moms could have a respite from the relentless administrative responsibilities of the school-year, 90% of them which seem to fall during the last 3 weeks.
There’s so much to tell you about my birthday celebrations and the ridiculously amazing gift from my husband {and friends and family} but I just can’t. string. words. together right now because I am seriously and completely tapped out.
Brain fried. Calendar clogged. Nerves completely and totally frayed. If a terrorist showed up at my home and said, “Get your act together or I’ll have to kill you,” I’m afraid I’d have no choice but to take the bullet.
So if you’re already enjoying your bless-ed summer vacation, just be prepared for me to make snarky comments on your Facebook and Instagram photos that show your kids jumping off diving boards and playing in the sprinklers.
Why? Because I’ve got to pack for a 3rd grade pool party and not forget the plates I’m supposed to bring and get the bunk beds ready for a sleepover and do something with that laundry gracing the kitchen table and remember which kids I’m supposed to take home and which ones are coming with me…
and for the love, not forget to pick up the Pull-Ups.
Joan says
Move over, Jen!!!
Love it and LYF,
MOM
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