It always amuses me, how different May’s mother is to that of September’s. Well stocked pantries, sweetly constructed lunches, neatly folded wardrobes, brand new shoes. All of our better intentions pushed to the forefront as opposed to the total wreck we are by the end. Dragging what we can find from laundry littered in various corners, forsaking socks and clean hair, armed with questionable lunch choices, backpacks stuffed with week’s worth of junk, shoes threadbare or lost. Sanity frayed and emotions on high. Tossed with a mix of nostalgia and anticipation. For another year past and the possibility a summer season holds.

As of now, we have but 7 days until break. And just the same as every year before, I’m hanging by a thread. Mentally checked out, painfully struggling to keep it all together one more week. Our last one ruled by routine which Mike has taken off of work to kick start the second leg of the renovation. Prepping the floors for wood, tiling the kitchen (possibly the bathroom too) taking out another ceiling and turning our old kitchen into a boy’s bedroom. It’s quite a lot to power through in the course of seven days (hardly what can be counted as the kind of “vacation” we’d prefer, but we’re both really excited to see what can be accomplished with all the extra hours.) Plus I’m really desperate to get the house into decent shape before summer starts and my friends from out of state arrive.

Next week I’ll be back here with posts about raising the right brained child, and my dream day trip to Baja. Until then, drowning in saw dust, painting wood beams, dreaming of summer nights so close I can smell them.

Seven days and counting!