The Summer Zone

Travel with me to another dimension, a dimension not only of warmth and relaxation but of mind; a journey into a wondrous season whose boundaries are only that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead — your next stop, the Weasel Summer Zone.

We are in home stretch. Nine long miserable months of homework, conferences, teacher emails, tightly packed schedules and peanut butter sandwiches is coming to an end. This must be what parole feels like.

Now some of you are reading this and saying to yourselves, this woman is nuts "but it's easier when the kids are in school. It screws up the whole schedule when the kids are home all summer." NukeDad commented the other day "Wait, let me get this straight: you send them all off to school in the morning and have at least 6 hours of peace and quiet, and now you can't wait for that to be OVER? You realize what that means, right? NO 6 HOURS OF PEACE AND QUIET! Are you out of your ever lovin' mind?"

My answer to that is yes, yes I am. That is what school does to me.

Even as a child I hated school. I was a descent student, but the school year tortured me to the umpteenth degree. I served my time. I did my work and I longed for summer time. The last day of school was always (and still is) the happiest day of the year for me (a close second is when we make the switch to daylight savings time).

At high school graduation, I was dumbfounded by many of my classmates being overwhelmed with tears. I wanted to sing and dance. As they mourned the end of an era, I celebrated my freedom from prison twelve years of misery. Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I'm free at last.

I still feel the same was about school. Yes, it's a necessary evil. I still hate the constraints it puts on our lives. I earned my degree. Why am I still doing homework?

All through the school year, I am a mean mom. I don't want to be. I have to be. I feel like a drill sergeant as I pull the Weasels from the warmth of their beds, force feed them breakfast, shout orders about the days schedule, give personal hygiene reminders and make them double time it to the car to get to school on time.

After school, it's all business. Papers to be signed, homework to be done, dinner to be fed, practices to get to. No, is the answer to almost every "can I, can we" request. There is no time. By the time all of the to-do's are done, I have to march the Weasels to bed. I hate being this mom. I hate not being able to enjoy the Weasels. I hate constantly being under the clock. Sure, during school hours I can get things done in relative peace, but the early mornings and late afternoons are miserable, for me and for them.

All summer long, we Weasels celebrate freedom. There is no grueling schedule. There is less laundry to be done when they wear bathing suits and flip flops constantly. We relax and play and just enjoy. We should be the poster family for the lazy days of summer. In the summer, I can say yes more often than a drunken cheerleader. Yes you can. Yes we can. Yes! Yes! Yes! There will be sleepovers, and lemonade stands. Popsicles and roast your own hot dog over the fire pit. Family bike rides and trips to the zoo. There will be trips to the lake and fun to be had around every corner. The absolute best part of it all is that I can just sit back and enjoy the Weasels. I can spend time enjoying them, without chains.

Maybe I am out of mind, but for me, summer in Weaselville is a little slice of heaven.