Two weeks till school, and I have done nothing toward getting Fluffy prepared. She’s begging to be homeschooled, by which she envisions being allowed to play Minecraft all day and run feral in the basement while I paint every paintable surface for the next 10 months. Which is precisely what it would be.
Between the packing, cleaning, unpacking and decorating, this summer has barely existed for me or my kids. And there is enough cleaning, organizing, and decorating to last me many moons yet. I took the kids to IKEA one day to play in the child center and then eat horsy meatballs. That was the highlight of their summer.
Me: There are just a million things on my to do list. I don’t know how I’m ever going to get it all done. Maybe I just need to pick a room and stick with it till I finish it. But there are so many little things here and there that pull me in different directions.
Kent: You also need to pace yourself.
Me: I’m not a pacer.
Kent: I know. I just want you to–
Me: Become a different person?
Kent: No. I just want you to pace yourself…and be frustrated.
Me: Pace myself and be frustrated. Got it.
So today after I helped the technicians install my chandelier, I made an effort to give my children something resembling attention–and food. Thanks to Lara Goold, we have a lovely farm share of vegetables and fruits, so I made corn and four colors of carrots and pasta and stuff.
Me: Fluffs, if you make the “this is horrible” face before you actually put the carrots in your mouth, it doesn’t count.
Salty loves corn! Peppers not only will not eat it, but cannot abide the sight of others consuming it.
Peppers: Can you move that over there? It makes me too visible.
Me: No. I’m going to eat it here.
Peppers: That’s too visible for me! Mommy, Salty eat his corn makes me too visible.
Me: Let the boy eat his corn. You don’t have to watch.
Which reminds me that Peppers has an awesome vocabulary. He just has little idea how to wield it. Like Kent:
Peppers: Wake up, Daddy. You’re on my tail (sleepsack).
Kent: I’m awake.
Peppers: Wake up, Daddy. Wake up!
Kent: Peppers, I’m awake!
Me: He means, “Get up” not “Wake up.”
Kent: Well then he better–learn to–English language–it right.
Me: I see where he gets his fluency.
The funny thing about this is that Kent was not remotely trying to be funny. He stumbled and sputtered and we both saw this sentence veering off course, and there was nothing he could do about it except watch it crash and burn in a glorious combustion of irony.
Two slim weeks? I haven’t gotten around to planning the summer, let alone engaging in the actual activities. Piano, math, potty training, teaching the boys to read, swimming, spraygrounds, museums, library reading–all mounded in the get-to-that-later bin like a month’s worth of laundry. I have not been idle. I just haven’t accomplished the smallest fraction of what I would like to have done this summer. Can we have a do-over, please?