Tomorrow, we load up the car with 8000 different toys and things to keep the child busy, 4000 changes of clothes for him for the inevitable messes, and a large backpack full of stuff for Brandus, who we will be kicking out of the car at the airport.

He’s going to Nepal, he isn’t taking us, and if I’m lucky, he might have remembered to pack a picture of me to take with him to show the kids he’s supposed to be teaching. They told him to bring pics. So far, he’s packed upwards of 20 pics from Alaska, 4 of Voldemort, and one of the cats.

The Dark Lordling and I will be leaving our happy home at the beach to go…to the beach.

A different beach.

With my parents.

It might be easier to hitchhike to Nepal, but hey, we’ll see how it goes, and at the very least, my dad generally gets up early. So HE can get up with the kid at 6:30 in the morning, and I can sleep in!

Yesterday, Brandus and I ruthlessly abandoned our child to the mercies of daycare on our day off from summer school, and WE went to go see Harry Potter.

It was totally strange – the chance to sit in a dark room and eat snacks and actually watch the screen instead of having to be up and down to get a snack or take someone potty or just have the sheer joy of a kid climb in and out of our laps while elbows and knees and feet and hands press heavily into sensitive parts of our anatomy.

It was awesome.

The movie was pretty darn awesome, too.

I could teach summer school EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE.

Four hours a day, four days a week. That’s it. Add in snack time and computer lab and science lab and journal time and reading centers, and the weekly field trips, and I really only plan for thirty minutes to an hour of lessons per day.

I LOVE SUMMER SCHOOL.

Why can’t I teach it year round?

I know I said a while ago that we were converting Voldemort’s bed that day, but I lied, as we didn’t get around to converting it until today.

Tonight, actually.

Like, ten minutes before bedtime, Brandus poked at the railing thoughtfully and said, “huh. go get my screwdriver,” and then suddenly the Dark Lord is throwing himself on the mattress and saying, “big boy bed! big boy bed!”

Of course, minutes later, every time I told him to get into bed, he climbed up, laid down, and cried.

This could take a while.