Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Home Sweet...Whatever

So here I sit, after day 6 of summer vacation. It was a stay-cation day, or house arrest, depending on your definition. In short, I resigned myself to completing those tasks around the house that I'd prefer to ignore, i.e. summer cleanup. As any teacher can tell you, summer is our break, yes, but it's the first time in months we actually have free time to do all the things that come in second all year while we're correcting papers, writing recommendations, composing thoughtful emails to parents whose kids drive us crazy, and working into the night after our kids are asleep to be the best we can be for your kids.  (And if you're reading this thinking, "teachers have it made - they only work nine months out of the year, etc." then you don't know any teachers very well.)

Anyway, after a lovely conversation with the souls at Pottery Barn Kids (God bless their summer sale), I went into crazy cleaning mode this morning: boxing up old toys, making piles for recycling, trash, dry cleaners, Goodwill, and so on, I also moved two rooms of furniture around in an ever-present attempt to gain more space in our home, and I carted at least four trips of seasonal stuff to the attic. 

My children were rockstars; my daughter played by herself, humming and coloring, planning playdates with everyone she knows, and avoiding eating anything of real substance. My son giggled and snuggled, nursed and slept, nursed and slept. The rain made everything feel cozy and content. It was optimal clean-up mode for Mom, and I accomplished a lot today. 

But as anyone who has two little kids will tell you, it never really ends. The messes do get cleaned up, and my house is spotless when my kids are sleeping. My window for having all the laundry done and put away lasts as about long as the pauses between my almost-five-year-old's questions. 

I. Am. Tired.

And I'll have to do this all again in another week or so. But maybe the piles will be smaller next time. 

Here's hoping.

Summer sighting: No one, unless you count the bunny in the backyard. 

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