Apr 25, 2016 3 min read

The school year is slowly winding its way toward completion, and my kids are glad. Somehow, 6 a.m. comes earlier this time of year than it did before, perhaps because it is light later and bedtime becomes more relaxed. Whatever the reason, they have been struggling to get out of bed in enough time to dress, eat and brush teeth before the bus arrives to pick them up.

It will be somewhat of a relief for them when I can let them sleep until seven or eight before rousting them from slumber. It’s a time when their schedule can relax a little (around hay season, that is) and they can enjoy one another’s company more. We have had those summers, you know. The ones where everyone mostly gets along and I don’t pray the first day of school is tomorrow, beginning in July.

But I will admit that there is a tiny part of me that doesn’t look forward to school letting out and the relaxation beginning. I am a very routine-oriented person, so the lack of a set schedule messes with me some. I rather enjoy the knowing. Knowing what time the kids leave and return. Knowing when to have meals ready. Knowing bedtime is coming. All of that changes in summer, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it.

Even when school is still in session, the routine is lost on days I am away from home. I’ll give you an example that happened this weekend. I had cause to be in Cranberry on Sunday for the better part of the afternoon. With church in the morning and a baby shower in between, I was gone from 9:15 until about 7:30. The kids were home from church by 12:30. And while my husband was home with them, he typically gives them a bit more free rein than I do. (Read: If no one is bleeding and everyone eats, everything else is fair game.)

I arrived home exhausted from the business of the day to find no one in the house. They had decided to burn another brush pile and cook out for dinner. I already felt the tension in my stomach – 8 p.m. dinner time on a school night? Oh my.

When I arrived at their cook site, I barely recognized my kids. One was covered in red paint (she had painted herself as much as her project, for fun, she said.) Another had soot from a previous pile streaked like war paint across her face, and my son had gone one step further and painted his entire face black with soot. They were filthy – one still dressed in church clothes – with wild eyes and bits of debris in their hair.

I had been gone less than 24 hours, and my children had gone feral.

I remember saying, “This is why I can’t die,” before my husband started laughing. He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks at my incredulity. Then he went and cooked himself a hot dog while I just sat there, mentally preparing myself for the upcoming summer. Routines WILL be lost. Chaos WILL reign. And as always, I will survive it somehow.

Ready or not, here it comes.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.