The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

Kiddos went back today. Everyone is shouting hip hip hurray except me. It's not that I'll miss them. The little buggers'll be back before I know it. It's just, when I think of all the things that schools could do with that time versus the way they choose to spend it, it makes me sad. I want my kids to want to go to school. Hard to feel that way about place where the ditto stacks go all the way to the ceiling and the list of rules do too.

My brilliant, totally-not-thought-out-yet plan is to bring back apprenticeships. My son isn't a bad kid; he just needs something to DO that doesn't involve sitting at a desk, filling out boring paperwork. My idea is if they would give kids jobs doing anything at all, including sweeping the halls and reorganizing the book shelves, they would be a lot happier about their day.

I wish I knew more people with interesting jobs, but heck, I wish I knew anyone who might be willing to give my idea a shot. Because children never want to learn from their own parents, we could exchange our kids and teach them anything we could think of that might be useful, or just anything that is fun. I, for example, know how to do needlepoint and speak French. My mom makes awesome bread and butter pickles and my husband can fix anything, even if it's not yet broken. I figure someone else might like to know how to do these things too.

If you think a kid-swap apprenticeship program has merit over traditional schooling, comment below. Maybe we can get a grass-roots thing going.

Living Life in Reverse

My kids are doing their summer in reverse. The first day of the vacation, they were doing the,
"Mom! He's touching me with his toe nail!"
"Mom! She's breathing on me!"

Now they're playing sweetly together and can't be nicer to each other. Their creativity astounds me, makes me feel like a complete hack. The semi-funny scene I churned out this morning is nothing compared to the elaborate games these two dream up.

It reminds me of the Dr. Seuss quote about adults being obsolete kids and that true success is the ability to bring some of a kid's freshness to adult life.

So I give it a shot. I ignore the pile of dishes, step carefully around the detritus scattered across the living room floor.

My foray into kidhood lasts about seven minutes before my blood pressure shoots up to dangerously high levels. The sharp corner of a lego in my foot doesn't help matters.

I wish I didn't care so much about clean, clear spaces, but boring old me does. It's okay though. My mommy brain is needed to go break up the argument in the other room about who gave who a wedgie first.

I'll have to save channeling my inner kid for when I'm older. Something to look forward to.

Home Again, Home Again

Jiggity-jig. There's nothing like a long vacation with nothing to do to make you appreciate the dump you live in.

I was crawling these four grimy walls two short weeks ago. Now, my fresh perspective on peeling paint, stacks of mail and broken washing machines is how wonderful.

We have gone to visit my mom's second home faithfully every year for the past decade. It's a nice place, on the water, lots of space and privacy. My husband relaxes by doing things like whacking back the jungle that threatens to swallow the house and chasing bees out of the gutters where they set up a sizable nest during the many months when no one is around. The kids used to entertain themselves by swinging from one antique table to another, but they've taken up other interests, like falling off the dock onto the rocks in the swampy pond and playing croquet in the poison ivy. I rested on the porch this year with the bees who also like the damp wood under the deck and enjoyed the scent of kitty litter wafting out from a nearby window.

 My mother is selling that house this year and I could not be happier. Is there any better feeling than having no regrets about letting something go?