We’re a week out from back to school, and I’m feeling conflicted.
In a week I’ll return to crawling from my bed early, arguments over brushing out tangled hair, and saying “come on, let’s go, hurry up” so many times I might as well record myself and set the iPod on repeat.
Back to school, ain’t it grand?
As much as I’m looking forward to a return to quiet days in my house — days when I can work, work, work as fast and furiously as possible so I can be done by the time the school bus chugs around the corner on its return trip — there’s something to be said for the summer routine we’ve fallen into.
Sleep, if nothing else, has become my friend. When you work at home, you can remain in your bed until 7:58 and still make it to work by 8 a.m., at least when school is not in session, when there is no cereal to pour, no homework folder to ferret out from the piles of paper on the dining room table.
And speaking of homework. I haven’t missed it.
Certainly not the fights.
Not the sudden, “oh my God, I forgots” at bedtime.
Definitely not the acknowledgment that second grade (well, third now) math is much harder for the 30-something me than it should be.
Elementary math makes my head hurt worse than a 8-year-old’s scalp after Mom’s done working out a mane full of knots.
So go ahead, sing your back-to-school song and dance your back-to-school dance. I’ll be in bed, getting sleep while I still can.
Are you dreading back to school?
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