We've been back at school 7 days now. And I am wondering how far away our summer vacation is. Just to produce a little bit of hope around here, I wrote "The Last Day of School" and circled it on our calendar today. I'm not sure we could go on without a dim speck of light at the end of this tunnel.
Olivia has been in a state of high anxiety since yesterday afternoon. She got her first detention. Oh my. I heard her wailing, "My life is over!" last night in her bed. I'll spare you the gory details, but her crime wasn't all that bad...she didn't hurt anyone or disrespect a teacher...so I simply explained to her that this was just something to learn from.
"But I don't know where Room 20 is. (That's where the detention was being held.) And I'll probably get another detention for being late for detention." Imagine the last part of that sentence increasing in volume and despair until the last word burst into a sob.
"Then I'll get sent to a school with the bad kids where they poison your food and hit you."
What?!! Apparently she inherited a bit of the CIM from her dad.
I calmed her down, reassured her that no such place existed, and any one of the very nice, helpful teachers would show her where Room 20 was.
But this morning, there was more weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Her life is officially over. Oh my. The first day of school with all its joys and excitement feels like a lifetime ago, for both of us.
My son's woes are of a different variety. Two words: Science fair.
He's out of his mind with ideas and plans for the science fair, just two months away (his words, not mine). And keeps trying to prod me into helping him. Honestly, I often think I'm the only thing holding him back from complete brilliance. I promised him this weekend for sure. He wants to get online and order petri dishes so he can test anti-bacterial soap. Uh-huh. "And Mom, we'll need an incubator." I asked my husband if we could use the one at the hospital. Uh...no. But if you'd like a tour of the hospital, he'd be happy to oblige. So I need to round up an incubator as well. And all Caleb keeps saying is things like:
"Mom, I need to turn in my proposal next week."
"Mom, I want to do at least 3 trials to confirm my results, so I need those petri dishes right away."
"Mom, I was thinking I could test the school bathroom soap against the samples in my control group."
And on, and on, and on.
And I wonder when summer vacations starts. How soon can we be riding our bikes around Mackinac again? Not soon enough.