How the hell did this happen? I promise it's really supposed to be late April--really. Somehow I've missed about 3 weeks of valuable mental time. The last day of school hit me like a day-old fish slapped across my face. Gross, unexpected, truly shocking, and slightly smelly. I'm still trying to wash the feeling out of my mental pores.

And now I've got to figure out what to do with my older kids for the next 10 weeks or so--is it too late for boot camp? I mean, neither of the little angels managed to get a decent GPA between them, and the adolescent sighing and eye rolling is becoming toxic around here. I feel like calling my mother daily to apologize for my own teenage angst: "Thank you for not killing me, Mom! You are a saint with a scotch-and-water." When she cursed me with my own teenagers, I only rolled my eyes and muttered, "What-ev-er" with a long suffering sigh (a self-fulfilling prophecy, that). So I'm stuck with boy adolescents with time on their hands. Argh.

The little one will be so easy: summer camp and hooray! I get to go swimming every day! What could be better? Why do we let them live beyond age 9???

I propose a serious revision to the calendar, something that will take into account the natural slide of memory and attention as we age. We need a holiday or national notification-- something that will serve as a warning of the upcoming summer break--something I can't miss when I'm immersed in some damn project or other (prom? exams? grading 80,000 essays?). But this year, I'll just have to suffer along with my teenagers. Can I whine, too? I guess I'll just practice my Momish responses:

Mo-oooooooo-m, I'm soooooooooooooo bored! Only boring people get bored.

What's there to do? You could clean (or do laundry, or read a book, or walk the dog...).

Can't we just go OUT? Sure--go right outside. It's a beautiful day.

Ohmagod, Mom, why are you so mean? It's my job.

How am I doing??