Call it the other curse of womanhood.
I hate being right sometimes. Especially when it comes to my children and predicting their behavior.
The Saga of Completing the Summer Assignments is still ongoing. School starts in one week. #*%!
Of course, as the mom of six, you can imagine that my schedule is just wide open happiness- all sunshine and roses.... um, no. I think I have a free half hour on Monday, but that is only if none of the other things make me run late. There is new student orientation, robotics camp (because NO ONE likes #2 after twelve weeks of vacation, and he doesn't like them either), boy scout pack checks and campouts, tutoring, ballet, tap, playdates and hopefully a day or two to work on my sunburn before the pool closes.
I HATE being in a crunch when it comes to the peeps. I can procrastinate on my own things and catch up, but my herd is almost an immoveable object. There is no hurrying those people. I guess "hurry up" translates into kidspeak as "take off your shoes go get a drink announce that you need to poop hit your sister til she cries."
So school supplies are already purchased, sorted and labeled. Ditto for shoes, uniforms, etc. The only thing I failed to get them to do on my timeline was their mother-loving homework. It is somewhere between herding turtles and chasing chickens. The kid I catch will usually refuse to work and will instead sit there contemplating life's great mysteries (such as: what is 9-4?) for hours until Mommy has to pee or find the owner of the screaming coming from the basement.
The nanosecond Mommy is out of sight- poof- he's outta there!
Why can't they move that fast when I am trying to leave the house? Maybe I'll suggest that we do homework right before I need to leave and they'll just head to the car instead?
For better or worse, school starts next Monday. Maybe I can make up for failure to get summer work done by not being late the first day.
