Today is the last day of school. The kids have a [pointless] half-day. I will be picking them up in a little over an hour. And then I will be with them near-constantly for the next ten weeks. My father-in-law will take them for a few hours every Monday. And on the weekends when John is home, I may have to run away for a few hours. [Don’t judge me. I adore those kids… but I’m going to need a break!]
I’ve got to come up with cheap (free) activities to keep the kids entertained. It’s challenging because the girl wants to go-go-go all the time… be outside, go places, see things, do things. And the boy would be perfectly content with a screen of any kind in front of his face the whole summer, with breaks to build LEGO stuff and argue with the girl.
So… I will be busy. I’ll probably have less time to be here. And you know… I hope that happens. Oh, I adore you all and you know it. But I think it will be good for me. I have trouble unplugging. With the kids and the summer… well, I’ll be forced. Maybe you’ll even have time to miss me. [Or I will succumb to my junkie tendencies and my subtle absence won’t be visible to the naked eye.]
[And when the summer is over, I have to work my ass off to find a job. But I don’t want to discuss that right now because the thought of it makes me a bit sick to my stomach.]
This maybe the last summer I’ll have home with the kids, not working. Like… ever. That’s a depressing thought. I should have been a teacher. Except for the getting up super-early and the having to be with a ton of kids all day.
I’m sure I’ll have some days of utter frustration when the kids will fight and I will try desperately to grab my laptop and hide, but that may not work out.
So instead, I’ll just watch this guy get ready for our date. [I don’t know why he’s getting dressed… I’m just going to rip it all off him later… or sooner…]








Yes, one of these kids is my son.











