The Summer O’ Fun has been successful in that my children are so tired they don’t know up from down. But it’s about to kill me. I have to keep a cheat sheet in the van so that I remember who I’m supposed to have with me, where they are heading, and when I need to collect them. There’s nothing worse than losing a teenager who doesn’t belong to you. And in my defense, it’s only happened once. But it was a nephew, and I don’t think he realized I actually forgot him (because I burned rubber getting back to where I left him. I think he thought I was in the bathroom. And we’ll just go with that.)
However, his mother reads this blog, so I may have some explaining to do…
In addition to surfing, bowling, and movies, we’ve added swing dancing, mall outings, and general “hang-outs” (play dates of old…generally involving old play date kids, just add years, hormones, and a potential for PMS or facial hair…depending on gender.)
I’ve spent the weekend finishing up their portfolios, report cards, and updating Emme’s transcript in anticipation for our annual Evaluation in the morning. If the truth be told, I’m not running myself into the ground just because I want tired children. Emme will be entering her senior year of high school next summer, so a very large part of me thinks that this could be my last Summer O’ Fun with her, while unfettered with the responsibility of a job, car insurance, and college prep. A little bit of panic crept up into my throat as I put the final touches on her transcript. I only have 2 more high school years with her. And with that, her senior year will be spent in dual-enrollment at the local university. Because I blinked. And my sweet, so painfully shy she couldn’t even look you in the eye, tom-boy girl has blossomed into beautiful, tall, confident, mostly composed (she still falls down spontaneously, but it’s just part of her charm) young woman.
Boys are beginning to buzz around. You should know that we’re dealing with that. Boys who can drive. Fiddledaddy would appreciate your prayers in this department. And it will undoubtedly be a blog post unto itself, but I have to first get a job to pay my daughter all the money I will owe her because I’m talking about THAT. As it is, I can generally get away with throwing a dollar or two at her to appease ALL THE EMBARRASSMENT. But that post will cost me.
Perhaps a Paypal button. (Insert maniacal laughter.) She did peer over my shoulder while I was typing and informed me that if I use the name “Emme,” “first born,” “favorite child,” “high school junior,” etc., I will owe her $3 per mention. PUT IT ON MY TAB, NUMBER 1.
After tomorrow (should I pass), I will be homeschooling a high school junior, a freshman, and a 6th grader. Our homeschooling odyssey will be entering its 12th year. Who would have thunk.
And on a different note, Fiddledaddy is giving me a blog MAKE-OVER! Beach themed. See? Pigs really do fly. Still a work in progress, but coming along.