It's been a really fantastic summer. For every year I can remember, I've always been ready for school to start. Being a person that craves peace and quiet, summertime with two boys hasn't always been conducive to my sanity. This summer, though, maturity, personalities and schedules hit the perfect storm. A storm that I really don't want to end.
Shool starts tomorrow, though, and I'll have a 7th grader and a freshman. (How can that be, when I'm only 30?! I have NO idea.) We had lots of one on one time this summer, and even tons of interesting, dare I say, revealing conversations (You have to get boys in the car to talk to you. As long as they aren't looking at you, they'll totally spill their guts). One such chat happened when both boys were in the car. We were discussing what personality traits our family members have that get on our nerves; the boys agreed that Nolan was loud and yells a lot, but when it came time to list my faults, Ethan frowned and said, "You don't really do anything that bothers us. Except when you go all Psycho Mama Bear."
I'm sorry. Excuse me?
He went on to explain what that meant. Evidently when I have asked seventeen billion times for something to occur, for instance - like someone's wadded up, dirty, sweaty, disgusting socks that are shoved in the corner of the sofa to be relocated to the laundry room, and I repeatedly get ignored, then sometimes, mayhaps, after the seventeen billionth and first time, I might raise my voice to a sonic boom and let some small flames escape my eyes.
You know, Psycho Mama Bear. Or in Ethan's shorthand, "P.M.B."( And then P.M.B. stood for something else...Collapse )
You know, come to think of it, maybe I won't be sad that the twerps are going to school. Provided I stay out of the backyard, I may just have a little peace and quiet in the morning.