Summer's Upon Us
Yikes, summer is just around the bend. Although it has it's advantages, like not having to pry yourself out of bed every morning, not having to pester your children to get up until they twitching erratically or lunge for each other's jugular over cereal box rights, not having to go to square dance shows and plays and musicals and pretend to actually be as entertained as you'd be at a Led Zepellin concert, not having to browbeat them over homework, etc, it has its downsides too. Sure, my time is once again my own, but my kids seem to think otherwise. I know, like every summer in the past, they'll assume I'm their official cruise director with an immediate solution to the ever-ubiquitous "I'm bored, Mommy." I know I'll spend so much money it'll be leaving my wallet like crap from a goose. I know I'll be tortured by incessant begging. I know that, in Houston's summer heat and humidity, I'll melt and run down my boots and hassle with bad hair days that make Don King look like he's had a buzz cut. I know I'll look forward to revitalizing my friendships with lunch dates, trips and coffee house meetings only to play tag with conflicting vacations and scurry to book 37 meetings the last week before school. I know I'll yearn for that long-awaited manicure and pedicure only to have it repeatedly usurped by orthodontist and dental appointments. I know I'll suffer all these trials and tribulations of summer with it's unrequited promises, but I'll love it nonetheless because I'll have more free time with my kids who I adore enough to endure it all.