I swear this week and last week have each lasted a month! Good gravy! Isn’t school over YET?!
We are in the middle of that end of the school year activity crush. Every year it seems like May is jam packed with stuff we have to do. We’ve had field trips, band concerts, academic award ceremonies, and we still have field day, game day, and final exams before it is all over next week.
I’m tired, the boys are tired, we are just ready for it all to be done. Well, kind of…I’ll probably be a big snotty, teary mess when my baby moves up to the big ole’ Intermediate school. Not to mention that I now have a teenager ONE YEAR away from high school!!!! Oh Lord—I may need a sedative.
In other news, summer arrived with a vengeance over the weekend—105 degrees!!! In MAY!!!! That does not bode well for us come July. But the big problem with this weather is that our ceiling fan in our bedroom had up and died a few months ago. Which was not a problem, or even really an inconvenience back in March and April, but now…well, it is an issue. So, yesterday we got it replaced. This way I can continue to sleep in my bedroom without having to crank the air conditioner down to a level that makes paying the electric bill quite uncomfortable for Mr. G.
With the onset of the 100+ degree weather, E has begun his daily pestering of me to get in the pool. I have tried to explain to him that asking me the same thing, over and over and over and over, and OVER again, does not exactly engender happy or agreeable feelings in me. He is still working on processing this information.
My children are quite upset to learn that there will be some sort of schedule this summer and that it does not include them wearing their pajamas all day while watching TV and playing video games every day. They think this is the definition of summer. It is unfortunate for them that their mother is not in agreement. What is even more unfortunate is that their vote doesn’t really carry much weight, unless it happens to coincide with mine. 🙂
I’ll update you more on the summer schedule next week—when I’m not teaching, or brain dead, or thinking about going to bed at 8:00.