I guess summer really is over. I'm seeing some golden leaves on trees, spotted my first flock of geese heading south, have an overwhelming urge to simmer some homemade cinnamon potpourri on the stove, and am sending my kids to school with a jacket in the morning.
And, I have been running my pens' ink dry writing the schedule on the calendar. In addition to the normal work and church commitments, we have back-to-school night, classroom dinner nights (times 3!), cross country for my girl who "really, really" wanted to join but "doesn't really like to run.", swimming lessons, preschool and ECFE.
The mornings have been earlier, the bedtimes earlier and we are all settling into a routine again. And, my house nearly echoes with the quiet of only a preschooler and toddler at home with me during the day.
When the air turns crisp in September, I feel a strong urge for self improvement, more so than January first. Just like a new school year is a do-over with no missing assignments and another potential chance to be teacher's pet (yes, I was "that" girl), I still feel like I can make enough to-do lists to actually better myself.
Yes! I will stop skipping workout sessions in the morning.
Yes! I can keep the house company ready at all times.
Yes! This is the year I will get my novel published.
Yes! I will water my plants and not kill them through pure neglect.
Yes! I will speak in calm tones and come up with creative parenting solutions that would make Cliff Huxtable of the Cosby Show proud, even if it involves elaborate planning and the participation of family friends who have profound life lessons to share within 30 minutes.
Yes! I will cultivate family friends who have profound (yet brief) life lessons to share with my children.
Yes! I will spend below budget, and somehow not infringe on above mentioned elaborate Cosby-style parenting solutions.
Yes! I will finally figure out how to apply eye liner without looking weird.
With pencils sharpened, I will (as every other year past) make elaborate lists and schedules. I will truly convince myself that I can clean out the entire garage during one day's worth of nap time. I will also convince myself that it is possible to fit into pre-baby clothes, get all my kids to love cooked spinach, and learn to find the beat to music and actually clap along without feeling foolish or incompetent.
But, by the time October rolls around, the alphabetized lists that I have made regarding my self improvement will have scribbled on by a child, ripped up by another child, and scattered around my house by yet another child.
Fortunately, with the complete and abject failure to implement my plan I will have more time for board games with the kids and sneaking good chocolate without the kids.