Don't Stop to Breathe

We have definitely hit that time of the year...end of the school year.

Now I will have to say that I thought the regular school year schedule was exhausting. But they've upped the ante. It is more exhausting preparing for all of this end of the year hoopla (cakes, cookies, gifts, crafts, etc) than homework ever was.

And one party just bleeds to the next. End of the year picnic Wednesday, Olympic Day Thursday, Father's Day and End of Year Party Friday, Pajama and Party Day Monday, and finally they figured out how to do it right on the REAL last day of school, Tuesday...and that is that no one goes. Like, you're kinda expected not to send your kid to school on the last day.

And all I can say is Hallelujah! Because if they did want them to go, I'm sure they would also expect them to come with yet another plate of cookies in hand. And probably a single flower, too. And without a doubt another 10 dollar bill.

Now don't think for a minute I'm sitting here complaining. I'm simply saying it's exhausting. More exhausting than homework. Like I already said. And we already know homework wipes me out.

But now we finally get to enter the world of summer. And white pants. Which we've already totally been rockin the white pants. So, do you do this also? Every time I put on white pants, I think, "Now you know you're setting yourself up for failure, right? Like you've got about 10 minutes of wearing white pants....if you're lucky. And then they'll be white-smudged pants."  The color always varies....pink, orange, red. Depends on the kids' food of choice that day. Yogurt, Cheetos, berries. But I know without a doubt they are very quickly going to be pretty dirty.....yet I still slide into them. After giving a visible shoulder shrug of surrender. Before I even have them on. Moms, is there something wrong with us? We know we lost before we've even played, yet we insist on playing??? But there's some things you can't deny and one of those things is this....white pants look good. And crisp. And summery. And relaxed.

So I will continue to wear them.

And sit on my white couch. That much to my husband's dismay, I insisted on having. A white {actually cream couch} that will be tattooed with blackish-gray finger prints all along the arm rest for as long as it resides in my living room. And that will have all the seat-cushions covered with ghetto, non-matching blankets to keep at least part of it in it's natural color.

But just like the pants, you can't deny that white looks and feels good.

I'm a sucker for sentiment. Lo siento.

Now I'm off to cheer for my little Olympians- Go Switzerland and Papua New Guinea!