Or alternately titled, Margaret Always Finds the Dirt.
I sped up the last few weeks of lessons here so that we could officially be done with school by Memorial Day--mostly because I was done. Really done. I'm doing David's standardized testing this week so I guess we aren't officially finished just yet but I've called the official start of summer anyway.
It's glorious.
We went to NC for the holiday weekend and had a lot of fun visiting, playing in the pool (the children) and sitting quietly nearby reading (me). When so many of your family members live so near to each other it's hard to fit all the visiting in that we would like, but we were able to get in at least a little time with everyone--although not nearly as much as we would like. Hopefully we'll be able to get back for longer than two and a half days soon.
Now that we're home we're settling into a summer routine which I think will be something vaguely along the lines of nature adventuring first thing in the mornings before it gets too ridiculously hot and then hitting the pool after naps where daddy can hopefully walk over and meet us after work. With a week of Vacation Bible Sschool sprinkled in so the children can't complain that we never sent them to camp. VBS counts as summer camp right?
I think it's pretty solid plan.
Now we get to spend the next three weeks frolicking as we watch the poor public school kids trudge up the road to school every day. David desperately wants to set up a popsicle stand in the front yard to try to sell them treats as they pass by in the mornings but I think that might just be too mean. He really wants to earn twenty-five dollars so that he can reach his goal of buying the Lego train monstrosity of his dreams. I'm not sure if taunting the neighborhood children with goodies that I'm pretty sure their parents won't let them buy on the way to school anyway is the way to go. I told him I could think of some extra chores he could do around the house to make up the difference but he didn't seem very interested in my boring mom solutions, opting instead to ask me if I would just "spot" him the money instead. Um, nice try punkin' but no. And also, when did my baby turn into a teenager?
Welcome summer. We missed you.