Is it Summer Yet?

Dinner:  Popcorn shrimp tacos with cilantro, lime, cabbage, sour cream and salsa.

Hooray!  It's summer!  The temperatures are in the '40's, so it might as well be.  There's just one catch:  we still have 12 weeks of school!  I have definitely started to lose some motivation for homework.  A packet comes home and I feel like uttering one of my dad's favorite words, (PLEASE forgive the profanity) "WGAS."  (pronounced wugus.) He usually uses it in the context of a store clerk who doesn't care enough to be of any real help.  My dad will say, "I got the WGAS."  He complains that he gets the WGAS from some of the grandchildren, too, when they're too busy to acknowledge him and the heavy encyclopedia he is probably holding, or the sheaf of papers he printed off the internet with which to educate the masses.  Trouble is, "the masses" usually have runny noses, hacking coughs, attention spans with the longevity of a Hollywood marriage and zero interest in ancient Greece.

I'm afraid I'm beginning to give grade school the WGAS.  We are getting to the point in the year when every day is some kind of special event.  This week is fitness week of some sort of thing which I have completely ignored.  My kids are pretty fit and they're not graded on this stuff, so we're good.  We don't need another penny prize around here.  Uh-oh.  Looks like we're to the point in the year when I get very cynical, too, but it's hard to keep up the facade of academic interest when I'd rather be stripping off clothing and applying sunscreen.  The only time I perked up this week was when I got an email advising us to toss our 2nd grade homework packet due to a copying error.  Ooh, throw away homework!  Where is it?!  I can do that!  I ignored the part that said a new packet would be sent home tomorrow, but I did get the offending worksheets to the trash.  I'll take any victory I can get.

Is anyone else burned out?  I know Freestone is.  His teachers are the best of the best, but he is required to read out loud every day, which is not fun.  The other day I said to him, "Free, you haven't been reading like you used to.  What's up?"  He used to read for hours every night.  He said, "You have to do it out loud and I don't want to."  I hate to undermine our treasured teacher, because she is fantastic, but I can't, in good conscience, continue to snuff out Freestone's love of reading.  We'll have to tweak our routine for this kid.

I told Golda last night not to let her guard down.  Late-night studying translates to good grades which translate to scholarships which mean more money saved for living your dreams.  She knows I'm right and she works hard.  Now I just need to convince myself.  It's time to buckle down for the last stretch!  Go Mustangs!  And Falcons!  And Darts!  And moms and dads!