No school 'til fall? Seriously? I don't think I can wait.

In September I will enter The Wonderful World of Being the Parent of a Public School Kid. Matilda got into the school that we wanted her to go to! I am very happy about this.

It wasn't some kind of ultra competitive thing or anything, just an out-of-district transfer to a school that I think she will do really well in. It's about half the size of the school in our district and it has a very involved parent community. Besides, when we went to visit one day last month Matilda didn't want to leave. Ever.

She and I both jumped up and down when we got the letter. We'd been waiting to hear ever since we got our transfer application in late and it was one of those things that was just so far outside the realm of my control that I had stopped thinking about it all together. But - Yay! Even though I haven't been thinking about it, now I won't have to think about it, if that makes any kind of sense.

Freya will be going to school as well, just two days a week, and only four hours each day, but still. The idea of having eight whole hours a week all to myself to do whatever I want is... well, breathtaking. It's months away, and if you count driving time, we're not even talking eight hours, and I know I will probably have to do work during those less-than-eight hours, but I still plan to spend the rest of the summer dreaming of all the luxurious things I could do with my time. Like sleep. Or eat food without getting up fifty-six times. Or take a bath. Mmm, a hot bath. Maybe I'll even start drinking a glass of wine every Thursday and Friday morning as I relax with a trashy magazine in my steaming hot bath for four hours, oh,and chocolate, don't forget the chocolate. That I won't have to share! Mwa-ha-ha-ha!

I can see this ending badly already:

Steve will get a call at work. No one has come to pick Freya up from school! She will have forgotten her "e" and she will be tired and cranky and sad. Steve will be in a meeting, he will try to call me, but I will have locked myself in the bathroom and barricaded the door with chocolate wrappers and empty wine bottles. The second call will come while he's still desperately trying to reach me, or his mother, or freaking anyone who can take Freya so he can get some work done for Christ's sake: Matilda has also been forgotten at school. It will be the day she was supposed to have a friend over. Probably the daughter of the ultra-involved head of the PTA, who is scheduled to pick up her nice, sweet, well-cared-for child around five and maybe stay for a little chat.

In the bathroom I will start doing really bad things, naked, like smoking cigarettes and writing on the walls. I will tear the nasty yellow wallpaper down in little curling shreds and sing Cyndi Lauper songs to myself as I wait for my family to come home, I will hear the phone, but I will choose not to answer it. I am an island.

Inevitably everyone will arrive at once, like a situation comedy. My mother will be worried, my dad will just "happen to be driving by," Steve will arrive with three tired, cranky girls in tow, one of whom doesn't even belong to us, and the head of the PTA will come in last, just as the door to the bathroom has sprung off its hinges and hit her cute little daughter in the shins.

Maybe it's a good thing school doesn't start until September. I don't think I'm ready. I think I'll go run myself a bath, the children should be asleep for at least another eight hours...

Note: This did start out as a serious post, and I am looking forward to some free time, kind of. Let's just hope it doesn't go to my head...