Memorial Day weekend was very cooperative this year. It brought summer sun and warm temperatures. Even the water at the local swim club was warm enough not to turn lips blue. Nice! But weird. In fact, it was so summery that it was hard to remember that school schedules and homework drama still lay ahead.
You don't know what homework drama is? It involves secret procrastination and then wailing demands for perfect silence and cooperation from everyone else in the fifteen minutes before it's time to leave for school. Oh, and baseball playoffs start today, which will only exacerbate the homework situation. Let's check the math. If baseball is from 5:15-8:00, including practice and driving to two separate ballfields, and kids get home from school at 3:55, then that leaves one hour and twenty minutes for homework, "dinner" (frozen veggie burgers), and changing into elaborate baseball uniforms and accessories. Slider pants, athletic cup, baseball socks, baseball pants with their special belt that takes much effort to slide through the loops, and the shirt that we hope can be located. Then there's the cap in the cap bin and the bla bla bla in the I-don't-know-I-thought-you-had-it-last mystery location. Which leaves zero time for computer use, daydreaming, or drawing funny cartoons.
Baseball, summer, and even homework are all good. It's just that the conflict between all three may not bring out the best in us.
Speaking of crunches, were not lazing at the pool all weekend. We here in the Dream Kitchen family were getting ready to host Hannah, our church's youth intern, for most of the summer. This involved frantically clearing out the "guest room" and turning it into an actual guest room. And, gimme five, we succeeded! She arrived yesterday, in her light blue VW bug with a big peace sign on the back. It's one of those newer neo-bugs, and a it's a magnetic peace sign, not a bumper sticker, so wipe that Woodstock-y image from your mind. Hannah is very cool and we like her! Plus, yesterday she let Will look at videos on her iPad. Her! iPad! Hannah also brought chocolate chip cookies, but we agreed that the two things should not be handled at the same time, especially in this heat.
The Chocolate Chip Cookie iPad Goddess will probably be around later this afternoon, no doubt trying to take a nap, meditate, or write in her journal. Think she'll mind me yelling threats and ultimatums for an hour and twenty minutes? Perhaps this summer will put her off the idea of having children any time soon. Probably a good idea anyway, since she's only 22. Glad to be of service.
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5 comments:
I rejoice in the lack of ball-playing in our house.
"You don't know what homework drama is?"
Unfortunately, I do. Threats, ultimatums, crying, etc. Sigh. And every week when he lets it go until the last minute he swears he'll remember how miserable he is as a result, and EVERY WEEK we have to repeat it anyway. Grr.
Our getting-ready routine sounds much the same as yours as well -- I was blamed for a few months straight for losing socks, until I found a giant mound of discarded and misplaced socks that had been "Brought to the laundry room Mom; I PROMISE!"
This made me laugh. Of course, school is out for the year for us, so I get to laugh a little harder.
At the risk of sounding smug, I was there last spring, and I'm really glad that my kids hung up their baseball gloves this year.
Hang in there.
I was, and still am, a queen procrastinator. And I remember the cram sessions so that I could fit in homework and fencing practice, although that was high school. But I was also too OCD to let any homework go undone (on purpose...sometimes I'd forget something).
Tip: I don't remember my brother ever taking the belt out of his baseball pants.
He also managed to get ready for baseball in probably 5-10 minutes flat. Granted he always had a hat on his head if he wasn't at school (until high school when hats were allowed in school). Sports were also his life so if he didn't know where his stuff was, that would have been earth-shattering.
Glad the homework chapter is long gone from our family story. There are still the happy reminiscences of getting from gynmastics at 4:00 to softball at 5:30, where their dad waited to coach them, across the county, via McDonald's. (I won't admit to speeding.) Who said anything about homework? Someday you will view all of this through that filmy, gauzy lens called memory. And smile. Then cry, because now they live 3,000 miles away.
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