Highs and Lows

Welp, it’s summer vacation.  Yes, I know I said the same thing in my last post, but this is a really big deal.  Like it or not (I’m directing this at myself), school is out for the long, long summer.  Speaking of which, one of the tracks in Body Combat class uses that  Alice Cooper “School’s Out for Summer’ song; usually the instructors pull the song out during that last week of school and, usually, I cry my eyes out while kicking and jabbing along to the music.  This year, no one played that song, for which, I’m truly thankful….I don’t really like to cry when I’m kicking and jabbing.  Bad asses don’t cry when they’re kicking and jabbing.

Oh wait, I’m NOT a bad ass.

Anyway, on Sunday I told Caroline I signed her up for summer school, but she didn’t find my joke very funny.

I can’t imagine why?

I happen to think I’m hilarious.

Evidently, my level of humor is lost on the 10 and under crowd.

So, as I was saying, school is out.  We survived the first day (and by survived, I mean I didn’t cry and/or lay on my bedroom floor with my hand draped across my forehead and say ‘why me?!” once); thankfully, day two is shaping up to be equally as successful, except for the part where we had to say good bye to our friends who are moving to Germany this summer.  That’s the hard part of military life, this moving and leaving friends behind, business.  Well, that and always having to wait around for the proper paperwork to go through, only to find out that a date was missing from page 7, therefore rendering the entire thing null and void.   And if you’re REALLY lucky, you’ll resubmit the paperwork on the Thursday before a four day weekend, thus drawing out the long and painful process even further.  Paperwork SNAFUs may take several years off your life, but saying good bye to the friends you’ve made definitely leaves a more lasting sting.

If I were to measure my day in highs and lows, I’d most certainly say that saying good bye to our friends was the low part.

As for the high?  Well, let me introduce you to the newest member of my house cleaning supply arsenal:

I really wish (no, like super REALLY wish) that this tub/shower scrubber was not the highlight of my day, but it is.  If that isn’t a sad commentary on the quality of my life, then I don’t know what is.

But, you see, it has a handle.  (A sponge with a handle!)  A handle to make tub scrubbing easier.

Who knew such a thing of beauty existed?

To say I’m excited to clean my bath tub would be an understatement, however, I think I’ll hold off until Craig and Caroline leave for Florida so I can truly enjoy my bathtub cleaning experience (and its sparkling results for days after) without worrying about my hard work being negated by a dirty kid who only likes to use MY tub.  Until then, I’ll tackle another cleaning related issue we’re currently dealing with:  the fact that my child cannot get all of her food INTO her mouth.  If I have to wipe up dribbled milk off the side of my couch or sweep up rogue pieces of cereal one more time, I just might finally lose it.

I fear it’s going to be a long summer.

6 responses

  1. Hahaha! I love listening to you describe the summer! It’s like a parallel universe, as summer for me is short, blissful, yet boring. But seriously, you’re cracking me up over here! I can just imagine you kicking and jabbing and crying. Heehee!*

  2. Remember (of course you do) when I said I was signing YOU up for summer school and you freaked out and ran away to the car and cried? And I was all, “Huh?” Because when I was a kid summer school wasn’t really school but fun stuff and not for kids who were failing.
    I was shocked at your reaction. Absolutely gobsmacked.
    As for your new aquisition: Um. I have no words. You did not get the bathtub cleaning gene from me.
    As for Caroline’s messy eating: Um. Her grandpa hasn’t outgrown it, so it must be a Kennedy thing that skipped a generation. Maybe HER kids will be neat eaters!

    • Yes, I remember the summer school thing! NOW it seems like a perfectly acceptable idea.

      I find food everywhere. I just wiped the arm of the couch and a ton of crumbs fell out of one of the crevices. I probably should make her eat in the kitchen and not in the living room….or in MY bed….but that would require enforcement and I’m not so good at that.

    • You mean, the ‘don’t enforce the rules’ gene? You know, I might be better at it if Caroline wasn’t such a good kid. She’s spoiled me with her general good behavior and willingness to comply. I wish she wouldn’t leave toast crumbs in my bed, but since she’s so easy to deal with, I kind of let it slide. It sounds kind of hippy-dippy, new-agey, but I really just want her to be happy and enjoy her childhood. So, I let her eat in my bed and drip milk off the side of the couch.

      I hope that doesn’t come back to bite me one day.


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