So, in my first four days of official summer break, I have:

-gone to the eye doctor
-made a dentist appointment
-made an ob/gyn appointment
-gone to the library
-gone grocery shopping
-read 1 1/2 novels
-written fanfic
-vacuumed the house
-swept the kitchen
-done 2 loads of dishes
-done 2 loads of laundry
-made several gnomes
-made 2 fairy ribbon rings, and would have made more except that I ran out of ribbon
-made heart shaped muffins with Voldemort

I am really REALLY enjoying my time off.

Several days ago, before school let out, my aide tossed me a book to read during rest time. We have to sit with most of our children, and by “with” I mean, “holding down with our bodies,” and there is only so much work I can get done while sitting on a child, so generally, I read.

On this day, I had forgotten my book. And the book my aide tossed my way was this one.

I said, Wait a second…i think I’ve read this!

This was a novel I vaguely remember swiping off my older sister’s nightstand a time or two. See, I read very quickly, and as a child it wasn’t unusual for me to read a novel every day or two*. Needless to say, I went through books insanely fast, and then would prowl the house looking for something new to read. At this point, Melisa was into some horror novels, and while horror wasn’t something I was big on (still isnt), I was fairly convinced I would shrivel and die without book sustenance of some form, so I would swipe whatever she was reading whenever she wasn’t reading it.

I did this to Natalie, too, but I remember there being more Sweet Valley High and less horror swiping from her.

Based on the fact I only vaguely remembered the plot, and was curious to see how it had held up in my brain, I reread it.

…Holy Jesus fuck, what the hell was that?

It’s a trainwreck of epic proportions. Incest, rape, child abuse, MATERNAL ACCEPTANCE OF THE CHILD ABUSE, possession, freaky paintings, and a little girl throwing her neighbors down into a pit with a dead cat dressed in doll clothes.

And yet, the biggest problem I had, out of all of this mess, was the understanding that the father had gotten drunk one day, and beaten the younger daughter until she was catatonic and diagnosed schizophrenic…and he wasn’t arrested, spoken to about it sternly, or even gotten the shit beat out of him by the mother. Matter of fact, the sheriff SCOFFS about the whole thing! “You don’t even know for sure what you did! I’m sure it was nothing!”

WHAT THE MOTHERFUCK? Geeze, if this is how frustrated I get after rereading a novel I barely remember, I don’t even what to know what I would think about something REALLY crazy like Flowers in the Attic if I read it now!

*I probably read the equivalent now, but a great deal of the fiction I read is online now. Damn, I want a Kindle or a Nook.

We went down into town this morning, as there was a street fair, and it’s a good way to get out of the house and wear Voldemort out a bit so that he actually sleeps at nap time.

We wandered for a while, and then decided it was way too freaking hot to do this, so we went out to a restaurant instead. We’ve been there before, but not for a long long while, so aside from remembering that they had good burgers and a lot of Elvis paraphanelia, I must have blocked something very important out.

See, the bathroom, which is tiny btw, is plastered with Elvis pictures, Elvis paintings…and a life size cardboard cutout of Elvis.

Because the bathroom is so tiny, when you sit on the toilet, your knees are inches from the King. Disturbing, a little, especially when you look up at his face with your nervous smile and realize that he is WATCHING YOU. His eyes are very clearly looking down at the person trying to pee.

It only gets worse when you stand up and flush, then hear him say “Thank you very much.”

Thursday was this year’s last day with kids. It wasn’t as thrilling as it usually is, because I ended up having to stay home with a feverish, coughing, Voldermort on Tuesday and Wednesday. So it was a bit anticlimactic. Plus, trying to say goodbye to my kiddos is hard. Not because I’ll miss them, although I will miss the two who are going on to kindergarten, but because I’m never sure what they understand.

Do they know they won’t see me anymore? Do they understand what summer is? Or did they wake up yesterday completely off routine because the bus didn’t come?

Do I celebrate surviving the year with my sanity mostly intact? Or do I start to stress about next year – with dealing with the crazy lady in charge, and with knowing I’m already starting the year with 5 kids, and the possibility of my aide not coming back?

Decisions, decisions.

Wednesday was Voldemort’s first attempt at a gymnastics class. I picked Wednesday because one of his friends from daycare was in that class, and I was hopeful that it would encourage him to follow along and participate.

They spent the entire time smacking each other with things, running around giggling, and being insanely goofy. Clearly, my plan worked a little too well.

Of course, this was also due to the fact that the “teacher” who was probably around 18, LET THEM. There were no directions given, kiddo wasn’t shown how to do ANYTHING, he was expected to just follow and copy the others. So when I went down to turn in the paperwork and (I thought) laugh at how energetic kiddo and his friend were in his VERY FIRST EXPOSURE TO GYMNASTICS, I was more than a little miffed to promptly be told “He needs to be in a mommy and me class.”

We convinced them to give him “one more chance” (and dont get me started on how much THAT irritated me), in a class without someone he sees all day everyday and loves running around with, and went back last night. Where he had a different teacher who actually bothered to give him directions and show him what she wanted him to do, and guess what? HE DID FINE.

Now, if he actually hadn’t been ready, I would have been cool with that, but you know what? You have to TELL him the rules before you expect him to follow them. HE’S THREE.