Ah, September, back to cruel time. I mean, school! Back to school time ... yes, that's what I was trying to say.
Oh, fine, you got me. At the risk of coming across like a whiny baby - um, WAAA! I want July back! But then again, who wouldn't?
You must admit that summer certainly is a lot less stressful than most other times of the year, especially for parents of school-age children.
What I mean is that, every weekday here's what we're looking at, people:
Bing! Up at 0430 and out by six-bells for Madrecita while the boys exit the casa around 8 a.m.
Then, after I barely stopped long enough to make water days at school / work, it's a mad rush to see if it will be Mom or Dad who beats the school bus home as Kyle disrobes in the driveway to save time whilst I toss a peanut butter sandwich down his throat as he crosses the threshold of the kitchen door. This I do because he's not eaten since his 11 a.m. lunch session, so I want to make sure he's not starving as he takes to the water. Then again, I don't want him to sink to the bottom of the pool, either, so the snack must be just the right amount of light and filling all this while he pops on his trunks.
Next, one of us speeds him downtown to swim practice. Did I say speed, officer? Motor - that's the verb I was looking for - much like Night Ranger sang about in their 1980s hit "Sister Christian," we're "motoring" - that is to say, hurriedly staying on just this side of the posted legal limit, natch.
We usually squeeze in our daily runs while the boy is doing an hour and a half's worth of laps and then it's back home for dinner, homework, maybe a few minutes of "America's Got Talent" or "X-Factor" then it's time for a few zzz's ... and 14 minutes later BING! Time to get up and start the fun all over again and again and again.
Oh, I forgot to mention laundry, lunch and dinner-making, house-cleaning, bill-paying, the occasional visiting with family or friends (nieces and nephews have games of their own, btw. I'd like to catch one of those in the next decade or so) - and did anyone feed and walk poor Monnie for Pete's sake?
Oops, another omission. On Wednesdays, it all starts a little earlier than usual because of the special "Students Against Drugs" weekly team meeting Kyle attends before school. So, back that day up a bit. Ah, and on Sunday's we've got CCD before Mass, so even the day of rest has a teensy bit of "harried" in it.
For my friend Beth Wharton of Hubbard, September signifies the kick-off of her taxi service season. Shuttling her boys back and forth to school, soccer and volleyball practices and their corresponding games, she is "on the road more than Willie Nelson" as she likes to put it.
Yep, I want July's return all right - back to a time when the only thing I had to worry about was the reapplication of sunscreen at just the right intervals.
Oh, and avoiding bees - especially after Kyle got nailed on his bike that one sunny afternoon. Poor guy - knocked him right off and scared the ever-living stuffing out of me.
Ooh, and then there was that weird caterpillar bite Kerry got at camp this past summer. I felt really badly for laughing and doing the worm dance after that nasty, bubbly rash appeared.
Right. Well, there was that one brief ER visit I had due to sun poisoning and resulting labored breathing in July.
Drat, yikes and breathless hmpf.
Aw, what the heck. Bye-bye July. Let the leaves fall where they may!