my mind is all a-twizzle. A twizzle? Is that even a word? For once, I don’t quite care. There’s just simply so many more important things to think about than grammar. Well there are. Mostly. Okay, great, now I feel guilty. A-twizzle is not a word and yet that’s exactly how I feel.
Last week it hit me. As I thought about how busy we’ve made our summer, I had a little “moment.” Who schedules two playdates, plus swimming lessons 13 miles away, and still makes room for lunches and naps, all between the hours of 8 and 5? And rinse and repeat daily?
We’re having a blast, but I am exhausted. I looked to September for the comfort of a different schedule. I suddenly realized that I must find comfort in different because there will be nothing easy about the new life. I’m the PTA VP over Fundraising. And in case that isn’t going to keep me busy enough I’m going to teach music to Little Red’s class and the incoming kindergarteners on a volunteer basis.
This summer I’m trying to wrap my mind around pulling a curriculum out of thin air, translating it into a language I don’t [yet] speak, and then preparing to teach it in said foreign language. Everytime I visualize this event I hear myself speaking in French.
And that is just the beginning of the demands on my time this fall. (stay tuned for the rest) Just how crazy does a woman have to be before someone takes her away?
In other news: our air conditioner was fixed on Saturday morning. I don’t think it’s worked this well during the whole six years we’ve lived here. Tomorrow I’m having a home energy survery with our local power company and hoping that they can give me some tips I can actually use to keep from cooling the whole neighbourhood while I cool my home. It’s possible I’ll develop a whole new affection for this place what with the temperature regulated.