Summer, like pregnancy, goes on for three weeks longer than is tolerable.
One of the reasons we left Texas and Tennessee is that in both states, summers were brutal. Texas summers started in April and went until October. Temps hovered around the century mark; for months, the skies would fail to yield even a single cloud.
Tennessee summers were shorter but 9,000 times more humid. You could almost feel yourself starting to mildew.
Both of my kids were born during the summer. The Diva made her entrance in late June. The Boy was evicted in late July. I distinctly remember the unpleasantness of being eight months' pregnant in Tennessee. I'd come home from work, strip off all of my clothes, blast the AC as cool as it would go and lie under the ceiling fan until I could control the murderous rage that the heat had sent me into. Good times.
I do like certain parts of the summer, mind. Those first few days above 80 degrees are pretty sweet. You can stretch out on a rock outside and finally banish the long winter's chill from your bones, like a lizard might.
I'm also fond of the first few weeks that the kids are out of school. Possibilities seem endless, then. There are vacations yet to take. Movies yet to see. General lazing around yet to laze. Late June is all about potential.
Late August is all about anticipatory listlessness. We're all done with summer and killing time before school starts again. My husband and I go back to teaching almost two weeks before the kids go back to school, so we always spend this part of the year furiously juggling professional and personal obligations. This works about as well as you'd expect it to and makes the end of August exceptionally irritating.
Then there's the weather, which is one topic that makes you seem ancient if you complain about it. I'll run that risk, though, since my students are convinced I'm older than dirt anyway, especially when I tell them tales of the dark ages before the Internet and cell phones. I can almost hear them cry when they imagine it.
Even before we moved to the South, I hated being overly hot. As a kid in Pittsburgh, where summers are as mild as Oneonta's, I would find a patch of shade to spend August in, like one of those spiders who only stick a leg out when food is nearby.
To this day, I'd much rather be half-frozen than half-baked. Um, no pun intended. When you are cold, you can toss another layer on. When you are too warm, you quickly run out of things to take off, especially if you intend to leave your house.
I'm an adult and can deal with my dislike for the first two months of the season. It's August that throws me over the edge. Not only is it hot, but the Diva is bored. She claims that there is nothing fun left to do. The only enjoyment she has is complaining about how dull everything and everyone is.
She's not wrong. I've run out of good ideas for filling summer days and lack the energy to foster creative boredom because I am too warm to think. I'd like to crawl into my shady spot, frankly, and emerge after our first frost.
I can't, of course. Because this is the time when we have to get ready for school and make supply and clothes runs on what feels like an hourly basis. I swear that all of the sun is making the kids grow faster. How can a skirt be long enough in the morning but pop-star short by bedtime?
My saving grace for the last three summers is that I've only had one kid to sweat with. Because I am the meanest parent ever, the Boy has spent the last few summers in day care. That's all about to change.
This fall, he'll start kindergarten, which means he'll be booted out of day care just as his parents are going back to work. We'll be juggling two bored and ansty kids this August rather than one.
Still, he's ready for "real" school and seems excited to start. The better question is whether "real" school is ready for him.
As one of his preschool teachers put it, "He wants to be the class clown but hasn't figured out what's funny yet." Which means that he has to keep trying different approaches _ including extra sass and plastic fork-related violence _ to suss out what makes people laugh.
George Carlin got his start in pre-school, right?
In addition to all of the other milestones that going to kindergarten entails, what this means is that the weeks running up to school's start will be filled with twice the boredom, twice the supply runs and twice the clothes shopping trips. There are certainly worse problems to have but, still, is it fall yet?
Adrienne Martini is a freelance writer, instructor at the State University College at Oneonta, mom to Maddy and Cory, wife to Scott, and author of "Sweater Quest," which was published in March. Her columns can be found at www.thedailystar.com/ parentingimperfect.
Parenting Imperfect
Parenting Imperfect: Summer starts with great possibilities, but when does school start?
- Parenting Imperfect
-
-
Diva finally got what she wanted for half her life
I am weak.
-
A parenting phobia that will leave you scratching your head
One of my two worst parent phobias came to pass last month. Even simply typing its name makes my head all swimmy. The Diva, as happens to kids her age, succumbed to lice, passed along by one of her fellow fourth-graders.
-
Oh, how the worries change as the children grow
Most days, we are all just trying to do our best under really challenging circumstances.
-
Newborn phase would be much better if there were deadlines
Friends of mine just had their first baby.
-
I just don't know if I can turn over control of the washer quite yet
I'm starting to think that the Diva should be taking care of her own laundry. My reasons are many.
-
Bathing children shouldn't have to be this hard
I just hurt my throat while yelling at my children.
-
The Christmas crunch is getting to be way too much
There are two reasons that I would like to be Canadian.
-
The Kingdom of the Mouse offers lessons and true magic
Some opportunities simply fall into your lap.
-
And the band played on ... right into the next generation
In what may later turn out to have been a fit of self-preservation, my brain repeatedly decided to forget that band starts in fourth grade.
-
Being the Stuff Master to the Diva takes a lot of work
About 30 seconds after my first child was born, I somehow became the master of all of her stuff.
-
The kids are growing up faster than we can keep up
My husband and I just celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary. If you add to that the number of years we spent either dating or living in sin, our relationship is now old enough to drink.
-
Parenting would be easier if only I knew Dink's secret
By Adrienne Martini One of my college housemates had a family dog named Dink.
-
The apple fell far from the tree, but I love her for it
This will come as a shock to exactly no one who knows me but I am not the girliest girl on the planet.
-
As the kids' needs for Mom change, Mom's life changes
Now that both kids are in school, all of the thankless work from the last eight years is starting to pay off. As a result, I don't see as many other people as I used to.
-
Some surprises aren't found in the surprise itself
I turned 40 earlier this month.
-
If time could just speed up and slow down at the same time
At the end of February, I had something happen that I hadn't experienced for almost nine-years: I woke up in my own house and there were no kids in it. This was, in a word, astonishing.
-
The Boy may just become this generation's Harpo Marx
The Diva has reached a new stage of development, one that is difficult to make public because this is a small town and her identity is known, if in a limited way. And so I'll merely give you the broadest outline: girls and their social networks are strange and, frequently, cruel.
-
While life is often boring, trips make it much more interesting
Our life, by and large, is pretty boring. There's school. There's work. There's a few fun moments, like the Diva's riding lessons or the occasional movie.
-
Memories of the kids as they were then mostly recalled in pictures
I have a nearly identical revelation every time I'm forced to go through the stacks of snapshots I really should put in an album already: how did my children get to be so big?
-
Even if the box is fun, it's not really enough for Christmas
If I were a true pragmatist _ or a cold-hearted Grinch _ I wouldn't buy any gifts for the kids this year.
-
Diva finally got what she wanted for half her life

