The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (?)

I haven't been able to hear myself think for, oh, basically the entire summer break - which is the main reason my blog has been gathering dust. When four boys are boy-ing all over the place, it's a cacophony of thumps, laughs, farts, and yells, punctuated by the blips and bleeps of video games. Concentration is hard to come by in that environment.

But right now, I can hear myself type, and it sounds almost foreign to my ears. Because today, three of the four went back to school: their first day of fifth, second, and first grades. The toddler is still asleep, and the only thing I can hear right now are some birds outside the kitchen window and the sound of my refrigerator running. MY REFRIGERATOR, y'all. It makes a sound. Who knew?

That's how quiet it is in here.

I fully anticipated doing the happiest happy-dance ever. Like maybe a mashup of the Roger Rabbit and the Cabbage Patch and the Nae Nae. (Okay, I'm lying, I can't do the Nae Nae.) Because it has been a long, hard summer. My boys get along, generally speaking, but so much togetherness just wears on everybody and I had started to feel more like a referee. Like I needed to just redo my wardrobe in black and white stripes and get myself a whistle. There have been times over the past few months where I literally felt like ripping handfuls of hair from my head, running for the hills, screaming like a banshee.

And this morning. Good Lord. Even though they all claimed to be excited, the boys were none too happy about being woken up. One griped about his shorts. One griped about his shoes. One griped about the breakfast. I'm cold. I'm hot. This tag is scratching me. I don't like my hair this way. I checked the clock obsessively as I ushered my dawdling herd toward the main goal of getting out the door on time. I gritted my teeth and willed myself to have patience as they bickered and danced around and acted like ten- and seven- and almost-six-year-old boys.

Only a few more minutes until the moment you've been waiting for all summer! I reminded myself.

I dropped them off at school. I watched them walk in. I drove home. And then?

I sat in my garage and cried because I miss them.

Damn kids.