It’s the last week of summer vacation, folks. Time to panic.
What? You are relaxing? Sipping iced tea on the veranda? Lucky you. I’m guessing you had the sense to schedule hair cuts and dental appointments and shop back-to-school sales well in advance of this week.
Me? I’m guzzling coffee, heck, pouring beans straight down my gullet and spitting out the pieces. I’m well on my way to a panic attack. Here’s a recent picture:
I’ve been driving all over the city like a woman who hasn’t been behind the wheel of a car in two months. (True.) And I’ve been conducting my life like someone who doesn’t have an appointment book or a phone or two children, one of whom starts high school next week.
It must be that.
The mark of time marching forward in the parenting continuum. I am now entering the unknown territory of the high school years. It’s melted my brain entirely. I have goop in my skull and it’s leaking out at a rapid rate. Soon my head will be filled with cobwebs. And then how will I find my way around to make up the forgotten doctor’s appointment, the missed orthodontic check-up, work my way through the 20-plus pages of Super-Duper Important Stuff to Know and Pay For before Sept. 2?
Spin wheel, spin.