Usually at the end of a semester, I go through a couple of weeks of feeling "lost." Feeling like I have something I need to complete/read/research/formulate but end up wandering in circles.
Of course, there is a downside.
Last Tuesday during the kids' Science lesson, my mind started to wander about something. One thought led to another which sparked another...you know what I mean? Here is what I am talking about:
::child reads section slowly, and mind starts to wander. Child's voice fades to the background:: Hmm. There are a lot of subs here today. I had forgotten that some teachers were doing curriculum planning for next year. I wish I could have gotten in on that. What is today's date again? ::glance up to a side board:: I can't believe today is the 12th already. This year is almost done. There is something about the 12th. Birthday? Anniversary? When is Ian's birthday? I remember Sherry calling me and asking me to work a split day. But I had to check on something. One was April 30 and the other was....Oh. My. GOODNESS. The boys had a dentist appointment TODAY. That is why they called the other day. I thought it was next Tuesday. Crap. What am I going to do? Geez we are never going to get through the lesson at this rate....
My mind goes like that all the time. Sometimes I am ok with it, but most of the time it drives me crazy because I can't turn it off.
Final grades came out a few days ago. Most of you know if you are on my Facebook, but for others...I received straight A's. Never was I more proud because this semester was TORTURE. But I learned vast amounts this semester, even more than was in my books.
For those of you that are moms to boys, let me say this in reference to yesterday's entry:
My daughter was easy. Not that she didn't have her moments. And technically she is in a moment right now-has her license, a job, a boyfriend, blah blah blah. She gets moody.
My youngest son is EASY. He is sweet. He is thoughtful. He is predictable. He is mostly level-headed. He is a carbon copy of my husband. (Thankfully.)
However. Nicholas is just the trying child. Of course he is in the middle. But he also thinks he is the oldest. He fullfills either sterotype.
He was sweet as pie all day today. Even though I didn't see him until 3:30, he came to my room in a good mood and was pleasant coming home. At 8:00 I call up the stairs for him to take a bath. He gets huffy and is like, "What? Why?"
"Because we were outside all day and it was warm."
"But it's still light outside!"
Trying to use my patient voice, "Buddy, it's 8:00. You need to get a bath. We have school tomorrow."
"But, I'll get done and then you'll tell me to go to bed and I won't even be tired."
Camera gets cut off....
Yeah. Um. Things took a turn and let's just say he got a bath and went to bed at the appropriate time. Nicely.
Three more days of school. The hardest day is over. I am going to miss them.
In other rambling-so-sticking-with-a-theme news, I gave myself a deadline. I want to finish writing one of my books by July 29. I figure I'll put it out there and you all will keep me to it.
It'll be a non-fiction book about good mothering. Reserve your copy now. It's sure to fly off the shelves.
Oh, how I kid....
***Updated to clarify*** There really is a book. But it is a work of fiction. And it is fabulous if I do say so myself. :D
2 comments:
Girlfriend, I don't know how you find the time to write with everything else going on in your life! Wowza. Impressive, impressive.
I find myself jotting down notes for book ideas and characters...and then I never develop them.
I've REALLY got to get my butt in gear and start writing. I mean, to be a writer, you need to write. Right? :)
XOXO
OMG! Straight A's is fabulous. Congratulations. Do I recall that those A's include a class on something really hard like Astronomy?
I had a dream last night that I was going to be late for lecture because I'd left all my things in my dorm room (?) and had to run back across campus. I think it's an end-of-semester anxiety thing. So I feel your pain on the weird sensation that is the end of the year.
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