I feel like a petulant teenager on the night before school.
I don’t want summer to be over. I don’t want summer to be over. I don’t want summer to be over.
Granted, it’s still seasonally summer, and the temperatures agree. 93 degrees is no fall-like day. Despite what the mercury says, our summer ends tonight. Tomorrow both boys go back to school.
BigBrother will head downstairs to the Big Kids Class, an air of confidence about him that comes from having two years of preschool already under his belt and the knowledge that he is almost five. Five is apparently a magical number and being said age in preschool is like being a senior in high school. He is Big News.
LittleBrother will head upstairs for the first time, a bit more tentatively than his older brother. This will be the first time that LittleBrother does anything more than hang out with mommy and daddy without his brother’s presence. I have no reason to believe that he won’t be okay, though he did admit that he was scared the other day before we made our way to his classroom for orientation. I think once he saw the toys, including two classic Buzz Lightyears, he forgot to be afraid. I wish it was that easy for me.
After I drop the boys off at school, I’ll likely meet my friends for coffee — a weekly treat during the school year — instead of packing away our summer. I still need to wash the bathing suits from vacation. They’ve already been washed once, but they dried on the deck railing of our beach house and they smell like sunshine and ocean breeze. I keep thinking that if I never wash out that smell, I’ll feel less forlorn during those long winter months where sunshine and warmth are at a premium.
We have enjoyed ourselves so much this summer, from bubbles to water guns to camp to the beach to geocaching to relaxing. FireDad and I got to fully enjoy the deck that we built last summer. I am bummed that it is over for us. We are no longer free to travel as we have all summer long. We are tied down by schedules that are not our own. When I think that next summer will be even shorter thanks to the realities of kindergarten, well, I get even more upset. So I won’t think that way.
I will instead work on our annual beach trip photo book when I’m not working. And reminisce about the happy times. But not too much. Something tells me that the next season of our lives will bring some fun, too.
How could it not?
[Tomorrow we’ll be in a rush. Tell me what you do during the Breakfast Squeeze for a chance at $100.]