The last week of school is jam-packed with cleaning, grading, and social gatherings. In other words, I'm a busy gal in the remaining 72 hours of a school year and Eric is a full time dad, from 6AM to 9PM. I have an office to clean, grades to be done (no, I don't actually grade papers but I do have to submit final grades so work is necessary), end-of-the-year functions to attend, and it's all done with very little rest.
I'm very blessed to be married to a very understanding husband who spends long days with a very busy toddler as I finish up the school year.
Yet, out of chaos, a tradition has risen.
On the last day of school, Alexander spends the morning at Mommy's work. We go to school at 7:30 and immediately run around the campus. Then, we chat with kids who don't have to be at school but have parents who make them attend, give high 5's to kids he likes, ignore adults who scare him, play hide and seek in Umma's library, and then finally head home (shhh, don't tell anyone we leave an hour early). By 9:30, Mommy is making breakfast while Daddy wakes up from his first sleep in from the summer. By 11, Mommy and Alexander are napping. And by 1, Mommy is on the golf course with her co-workers, drinking beers and slicing every single shot to the right (I really should practice more often).
We're three years into this tradition and it is awesome.
For the next eight weeks, Alexander will glue himself to my side. I will wake early with him, read books at naptime and bedtime, be his daily playmate, and pretty much spend every minute with the kid.
He will want to do everything with me and for all intents and purposes, his father will not exist.
To be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way (please note that I really like that Eric does exist).
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