By early July, I give up on the mental stimulation activities for the children and attempt to just try to make it through the day. I resort to water balloons and walking in the sweltering heat. By evening, I just hope they pass out.
At some point in August, I start the process of mentally ticking off the days until school starts again. Part of me feels guilty, the other part misses the quiet. As peaceful as the house gets during the school year with youngest child wreaking havoc. I start to count those days that go slower and slower during that final month.
By this point, I keep trying to convince myself there was a time I really couldn't wait to have the children home constantly. Especially when their nagging and bickering is every second of every day.
When the end of August rolls around, I start to get sad and weepy each night. It isn't PMS, I attempt to convince the husband. It is the fact that all of the brood are getting older. Each year, it hits me we are closer to oldest child graduating and going to college. This year will be rough, oldest is going to high school. We are also a year closer to youngest going to kindergarten. This makes me sad since he is our last and final child. Each year brings us closer to middle child leaving the safeness of grade school and going into the scary junior high.
It seems like just when I am at my breaking point each year, I get smacked with the reality of how quick life passes us by. The kids that I am wishing would go spend seven hours elsewhere, are going to be out of our home too quick, and there is nothing I can do to prevent it. I go into each of there rooms and look at them and wish that they would stay this age forever...and this quiet.