Tomorrow is the last day of our child’s school year. Two years of proof that we can get our kid dressed and to school on time. And this summer marks the second school break summer for me. And, after his half day tomorrow, I will again be Julie, his summer cruise director.
I’ve been here before. Proof is this blog post from last summer, my-childs-self-esteem . The difference from last year is that I’ve gained confidence. Last year, I majorly fretted wanting to fill up our summer with busyness and summer camps. This year, the camps are in place already. Although there’s left over time, I’m actually feeling confident that it’ll be spent well and I’ll be in charge.It’s called faith in my abilities. I discovered it this year. Nifty.
What a difference a year makes. I have a new respect for my own authority. Who knew I could be in charge of this vehicle at all times? Even when I’m hormonally psycho and my kid’s a bonehead. This summer, we’re going to have fun, damn it.. Even if I must sugar coat it with popsicles and pool dates.
You’re asking, what about me and meeting my needs? I say I want to spend my time with my girls. In the next couple weeks, I’ll be booking Camp Shalagh. This means, you come to my house, do something artsy or crafty, antiquing, or Queenstown Out-letting and we follow that up with drinking wine on my back porch and shooting the breeze. Maybe sauntering up to the Pub on the corner. I got my 10 percent off card tonight while there. My guest bedroom is free and husbands become designated drivers and golf partners. That was my husband’s suggestion.
Here comes the summer. Book your slot for spending a shift/day with my especially adorable kid so I don’t have to. Book a slot at camp Shalagh before the rush.. Give me an excuse to do what I do best. Clean my house, make you food, and host you like a pro and drink wine. My kid won’t bother us. I’ll make sure he’s doing yard work or something. Say yes to the un-stress. You know you want to.
Write me, call me, e-mail me, Face book me, and book me. I’m ready to have a summer to remember and I want to spend it with the people who I value and value me back. And the nice bottle of Frizzante I put in the fridge today/
This brings back memories of my mother forcing my sister and I to go to Kihei School summer fun. Now, we didn’t go to Kihei School, we went to a private school. So we went the first day and there was zero organized activities, just a bunch of kids who already knew each other and who looked 1000 X tougher than us (it really isn’t that hard to be tougher than me). We were miserable and just sat on the grass the entire time. I begged and pleaded with mom to let us not be subjected to that torture again and instead let me stay home and watch the ABC movie of the day (weird kid, loved Spencer/Hepburn movies).
Your camp sounds way more fun than Summer FUN (get the irony).
My sister and I were forced to go to Johns Hopkins Day Camp, a sporty sport camp. We were arties. We hated it too. And any camp that lets you drink, curse, and shop is the camp for me.
I want to enroll in Camp Shalagh for lunch one day in August, and want to bring my buddy camper Gail W. after her new shoulder’s had a bit of healing time. Hold a spot for us!
August is wide clyde open for my two old friends. I’ll look forward to it.