For just over three months (three months and ten days to be exact), my children have been out of school.  Our life on the move at the whim of the US government has lead, in this case, to one long and crazy summer.  Our school in Hawaii  ended their year in May (and they began their new year in July), and our new home state of Washington begins their new year September 2nd.  This has meant so many things, some of them wonderful and some of them downright exhausting.

On the plus side, I organized a nearly month long adventure across the Southwestern United States, dragging us hither and yon in search of adventure, history and learning.  In addition, we have had more and more adventures to Canada and Oregon while whittling away the summer. Also, we have gotten very good at sleeping in, which has been blissful on some days when I want to wake early, before the din, and write or drink coffee, or watch Netflix. Hurray!

 But, it must be said, that there were/are days (many if I’m honest), where I mostly wanted to pull my hair out and down a bottle of wine. Maybe the wine first, and then less hair?  I am their only playmate.

 At 12 and 6 years old, on more than most of the days we’ve been together this last three months, I have been their engaging playmate, soul-listener, friend and confidant.  It is a time I am sure to look back on and mourn the loss of, but I would be a total fake if I didn’t admit that I mostly just lost my mind this summer. Every summer.

 It’s hard.

 It’s hard being the best friend.

 Some days at about 3 pm, I find myself sitting on the front porch wondering which ferry my husband will be home on. Before having our rental home on an island in the Puget Sound, which has only been a month, I would be in traffic with the kids, or toiling about a museum, or on a hike. Always engaging them in learning, or a video ( let’s be real), or trying to imagine my life as a grown-up without two smaller people to keep entertained.  It is a difficult bridge, my life to theirs. Some days I can’t imagine that they would be shipped off to day-care, or all day summer camp from 6a.m. to 6 p.m., and then some days I think, “What the hell am I doing?”  I have, maybe by default or maybe out of subliminal choice, been a stay-at-home mom.Tomorrow that all changes.

 Tomorrow they both start school again.

 And now the question: What will I do?