In Which I Pretend There’s No Such Thing As School

It’s summer.  Oh, how I’ve wanted it.  We’ve only just declared ourselves done with school because we were sort-of waiting for Daddy to get done (he’s a teacher).  Now he is and we’re finished with our school year.  We’re so, so finished.

The kids swim every, single day even though it’s been unseasonably cool for June around here.  I sit by the pool and write or read and the kids splash, dipping into the ice water and emerging with the shakes.  Pure happiness.

I’ll be popping in here about once a week or so throughout the next two months.  I can’t promise when, exactly.  If you want to keep up with new posts and haven’t already you can follow this blog via email (see the sidebar).  Or not.  Whatevs.

Part of the reason I won’t be blogging a ton in the months of June and July is that I’m editing my book, taking it through its painful second draft.  This is sucking the life out of me but also proving to be highly educational.  (I am stretching, people, and if you could just see my mental stretch marks you’d think the ones on my stomach were nothing at all).  In September the book goes out of my hands and into those of an editor.  This is terrifying.

So, there’s that.  And there’s the fact that I write a lot about motherhood and home education here and, the truth is, right now I’m trying not to think about school much at all.  I mean, I’m a nerd at heart, ok?  But I just got done sitting through part of a home educator’s conference and my friends were there and there was coffee.  Everything about it was supposed to be ‘just my thing.’  But I fidgeted like a toddler during a sermon, and my brain was so far away from anything that was actually happening that I knew.  I knew.

It’s summer.