Here where I live, the nights are getting cooler, some leaves are starting to change colour and a few have even fallen. I am starting to organize the house for back-to-school, setting up a wee Home Central for all the papers, notices and everything else that will be flooding in soon and the kids go back in just over a week.
I can't wait for them to go back, for the return of some sort of schedule, for the return of some peace and quiet. At the same time I, as usual, hate myself, for another summer wasted. We haven't done much of anything, only one trip to the beach that is twenty minutes away, one trip to the park that is five minutes away, no Canada's Wonderland or the CNE or the camping that I was so hoping for. Their younger years are slipping away quick, and I don't want them to have "nothing" like my older two. I hate that they truly have nothing to write about when the teacher asks for a "What I Did This Summer" essay.
But everything seems too hard, too expensive, too little time, yet I haven't done much either, I am not even working right now. Our entire summer was focused on finding a house, packing, moving, unpacking and dealing with the old landlords BS. Now I know these things had to be done, but I am sure I could have done better, organized better, time managed better, but I did not, and so I sit here, looking at my still huge to do list, and hate myself.
Labels: Life