The kids returned to school this past Monday... my sanity sputtering close behind. I would have made a full recovery from the 24/7 togetherness of summer sooner, only I've been buried in papers I have to fill out for both kids and turn back into their respective schools. The first week is always a deluge of paperwork for parents. If you're not familiar let me warn you, you have to sign more documents and health, library and identification cards for your kids... than you do to file your taxes. It's insane.
And while I'm on the subject of crazy, let me be clear. We had an awesome summer. We did Europe, we entertained company, we swam, boogie boarded and body surfed till our hearts content. We also argued over dirty clothes on the floor, clean clothes on the floor, wet towels on the floor, dry towels on the floor...you see where I'm going with this.
Then there was the inevitable refereeing. The NFL ought to use mothers as replacement refs. We know how to make calls. We're in the trenches. Take for instance, when your son out of boredom decides to canon ball your daughter quietly watching tv. He thinks it's comedy. You not so much. You blow the whistle he gets "Unsportsmanlike conduct" and he's benched in his bedroom. Now, after a series of these "plays" day in and day out...I don't care how patient you are, you start to lose it.
I never counted myself as one of those mothers who were relieved when their kids went back to school. I always missed mine. We got to sleep in, life was good. But let me tell you, I never had a bored 12-year-old boy before or a 9-year-old daughter old enough to give as good as she gets now. We have a long history of Irish boxers in our family, but this was ridiculous.
To quote the great Erma Bombeck: "Do you know what you call those who use towels and never wash them, eat meals and never do dishes, sit in rooms they never clean, and are entertained till they drop? If you have just answered, "A house guest," you're wrong because I have just described my kids."
That being said, something else is very true. Just like house guests your kids will too leave one day. So no matter how much they can push your buttons, don't push the ejector seat...hold on and try to enjoy the ride (however bumpy and full of potholes it can be.)
And just for the record...I miss them already.Copyright © 2014, The Baltimore Sun