For my family, Spring Break technically began at 3:55 on Thursday. The kids came flying off the school bus, high on candy from an Easter egg hunt and -- as if a basket full of chocolate eggs and jellybeans wasn’t enough sugar -- they had an ice cream party with all-you-can-eat sprinkles, M&Ms, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. I should know. As a room mom, I helped dish it all out to them.
By 9:36 on Friday morning, my 6 year old son, also known as “the child who cannot self-entertain,” was bored out of his mind. His sister was still at a sleep-over, the kids across the street were packing to go to New York and couldn’t play, and since I had strange men in my attic laying carpet, we couldn’t leave the house to go to the park. Ah, the joys of spring break -- a holiday for children, a nightmare for parents.
It probably wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t still in renovation mode (have been since Christmas). I’ve had contractors hammering and sawing above me, below me, and all around me. Three remodeling projects at once -- what were we thinking? And since we caught one of the subcontractors trying to steal from us, I have been a virtual prisoner in my own home, babysitting grown men so it doesn’t happen again. Then this weekend, my husband and I spent both days fixing the paint job in the basement (soon to be christened “The Man Cave”) the painters managed to leave half done. Today and tomorrow, a small army will be laying more carpet down there. Wednesday and Saturday, the new furniture and entertainment center will come and need to be assembled. Sometime after that, the sunroom and the whole exterior will be painted. The fun just never ends.
So next week, I refuse to clean out a single closet, even though they desperately need it. (Technically, I’m missing the cleaning gene anyway -- a birth defect I inherited from my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Packrat -- so I have an excuse on that one.) I’m not going to plant flowers in the beds I just cleared last week of leaves and overgrown monkey grass, even though they look naked, empty and forlorn. I am not going to start a new manuscript even if by some miracle this last one gets finished and sent off (2 scenes to go -- it could happen!). No, next week is going to be MY Spring Break. Once I put my kids on the school bus, I’m going to grab a stack of those books that have been gathering dust in my TBR piles and start reading. For fun. For pleasure. Because I need to. Call it rejuvenation. Call it refilling the well. Whatever. I deserve it. I need it. I’m gonna do it.