So, summer's over. The kids are back in school. Cara's joined the Y swim team for the first time (cost: $50,000). Ryan's joined rec soccer for the first time (cost: $25, plus cleats, plus shin guards, plus soccer shorts, plus soccer socks). At this rate, I need a full-time job to pay for the extra curriculars.
Anyway...I haven't posted eh-neh-thin since Super Bowl. So I figured before I put something up, I'd give the old site a quick glance. And that's when I noticed that all the Google ads on the Football Widow page are for things like, "Are you by any chance under surveillance by Family Services because you SUCK as a parent?!" and "Is your marriage one matchstick away from H-bombing?!" And I think to myself, what have I been writing that's bringing these types of ads to the site? C'mon. I don't think it's THAT bad.
I mean, we all have our moments. But I don't think I'm any worse than the next woman who has two kids up in her grill yet giving her the hand from the second they wake up to the second pass out again at night. It's called venting, and I don't really think I need ads asking "Are Jack Daniels and Jim Beam guiding your parenting?" next to my blog.
But anyway, I digress. We made it through yet another summer. The kids were in camp for six weeks of it, which helped. But then there was that last month. Those four weeks between when camp ended and school started. Where they were not signed up for anything. And I hadn't planned a vacation yet (so sue me Travelocity). It was like looking down a long dark tunnel -- and I was a-scaired. But there was no turning back. The first day of summer vaca without camp involved a lot of bribery, followed by a lot of threats of taking away the bribes. Followed by door slamming. And, finally, toilet cleaning (by Ryan), dusting (by Ryan), and vacuuming (by Cara). They were punished with chores. It was gulag time.
Actually, though, it was just a first-day-of-being-around-each-other freak out on all our parts. The summer ended well. And school began well. Other than Ryan waking up each morning for the last week saying he's sick. Very sick. He was up sick all night. "Why won't you believe me?!," he demands. "I barfed. All night."
So we have some work to do getting back into the swing of things for fall....