I realize by writing this I’ll appear a horribly thankless Canadian mother, but I am SO DONE with summer. By the time I post this story, school will have been out for 52 days, 18 hours and 10 minutes in Toronto (not that I’m counting … daily). So like all parents trying to fill two relentless months of unstructured childhood, we have camped, cottaged and cavorted in the great outdoors until my obsessive UV protection practices have all but sunscreened the prints off my own fingers.
Sure, we were all ready for a break back in June, when sleeping-in felt like a welcome novelty. But by mid-July we had fallen so far off the domestic grid that I was serving breakfast at the crack of 11:00am. Days got noticeably longer as the kids went to bed so much later, and the energy spent keeping them from killing each other all day long started taking its toll. Two months in, I’m at the point where I can barely muster the enthusiasm to even feed my family anymore. Tonight we had frozen yogurt for dinner. (Menchies offers fruit toppings alongside the gummi worms, so at least there’s some fiber there.)
But tomorrow’s another day, one which will see us all heading north again for one final cottage hurrah before September. Just me at the wheel with Winnie and the kids in back, and a concentrated effort not to drive into oncoming traffic as they scream-sing the same five songs they’ve been listening to all summer. After the requisite number of “Are we there yet?”s, there’ll be more unpacking, more swimming, more lake water ingesting, more sunscreen, more sleepovers, more sibling bickering, more bonfires, more arguments over just how many roasted marshmallows it actually takes to induce a diabetic coma, more packing up again … and then we’ll be D-O-N-E.
First world problems? Admittedly, yes. But there is a well-known cure for what ails us all: SCHOOL!
“Are we there yet??”