Yup, today is the official start of Summer Vacation. Altogether more than 9 weeks of glorious togetherness for me and my horrible children.
Oh, the bickering! Oh, the boredom! Oh, the unceasing demands for popsicles and change for the convenience store! Oh, the futility of trying to get Firstborn out of his jim-jams and into clothes every day!
I go into each summer with a vague sense of dread, the joy of not having to get up in the morning for more than two months tempered by the realization that my kids are now mine to deal with. This dread is usually amplified by the impending arrival of my stepsons, and often the older one's girlfriend and various buddies who also come out for a couple weeks.
Between my recent separation from my soon-to-be ex, and school issues with the boys, they won't be coming out this summer. I'm bummed, because I love them and miss them, but at the same time, I'm relieved that my first summer as a single parent won't be complicated by fourteen+ hour round trips to pick them up at the airport, finding room for them to sleep in my tiny house, and dealing with all the mayhem that accompanies their visits.
And now that my youngest has decided he doesn't hate the water, I'll be able to send him and his sister to the pool on nice days (nice being defined as warmer than freezing with winds slightly less than hurricane force), and the park IS just across the street. Firstborn will likely plug in the moment he gets up this morning, and stay attached to his computer for the full nine weeks. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd get a feeding tube and a catheter to pee through so he'd never have to get up. I console myself with the fact that he's doing actual, real constructive stuff on there--he's got an animation hobby and some of his scenes are pretty damn good. He's as obsessively fastidious with it as I am with my writing, and as lazy about everything else in life...like mother, like son.
But still, I am now outnumbered in my own personal fiefdom, and after a week or two of freedom, the serfs, they get restless. Time to hide the pitchforks.