thoughts at the end of a school year
Why is it I feel such relief at the end of a school year? I mean, I’m not the one who’s dealing with finals and essays and all the other things that Alex has been wading through during the past few weeks, and yet I think I’m as relieved as she is that it’s all finally done this week. I’ve already promised her that for at least a 7 days, I’m letting her sleep in as long as she wants. And for the rest of the summer, I’m getting up 45 minutes later. Bet.
“I need a break.”
This is what I’ve been saying to Marcus every morning for the past few weeks when we wake up and he asks how I’m feeling. But seriously: the three of us haven’t had any concerted down time, just the three of us, in about a year. But this summer? We’ve got a few days built in — about 5 days of sightseeing in a new town while Alex attends a summer camp at the local university, and then a few more right before she returns to school in August.
I can’t wait.
This summer is going to be a crazy-busy one for Alex: in addition to the university summer camp, she has volleyball camp, she’s a camp counselor at a sleep-away camp, and she’s even doing some volunteer work. Last week, I was trying to get my calendar organized, making sure that I had all of her days entered, and realizing that at some point I need to book driver’s education for her as well, when it suddenly hit me like a load of bricks.
Alex walked into my office, and I looked at her, stricken.
“I’m running out of time,” I said. “This time, three years and three months from now, I’ll be dropping you off at university and saying goodbye. I’m running out of time.”
She laughed. I didn’t.
“It just hit me,” I said.
She smiled, not unkindly. “It hit me last week, too,” she said.