School Bells Ring

Just hear those Sleigh bells jingling? Ring ting tingling too.

Wait a minute. Wrong season.

Just hear those School bells ringing, ring ting tingling too. Come on, it's lovely weather to walk you back to school.

As you can tell, I am giddy these days, full of song and cheer. ‘Tis the season. That would be the back-to-school season. Only 10 days and 12 hours left. Not that I’m counting.

Don’t get me wrong; we have had a wonderful summer full of swimming pool parties, early mornings at the beach and family vacations to Manhattan and San Diego. My personal favorite was hanging out with relatives staying at the Montage. Sitting by the kiddy pool while waiter Joseph tended to my every need, such as an iced non-fat latte with Splenda, approached the divine. But alas, we only have a few wealthy relatives and those Montage moments were over before I knew it.

“I’m sad. It’s gone by so quickly, “ my girlfriend Lisa confides. She has a husband who not only cooks dinner and but also does the dishes.

Sad. Talk to me in July and I felt like that. Talk to me in August and all I can say is “24/7.” Ask me anything. Like my favorite type of chocolate or my latest Weight Watchers entry and the answer will be “24/7.” That is how much time I spend with my kids which gets me back to my counting. Counting down.

“I didn’t have a summer,” complains my girlfriend Susie. “I’ve spent my whole summer shopping for items on the supply list. A $300 calculator took me two weeks to find.”

Her daughter goes to a shi-shi private school where they obviously don’t provide supplies.

“Aren’t you happy that the shopping will end and school begins?” I asked her, searching for some common ground here.

“Well then the homework begins.” she grumbles.

Since my eldest daughter is just entering kindergarten, I have not yet crossed that homework bridge. Or the back-to-school shopping. But I get the hard work that the school year entails.

Schedules. Driving. Planning. And more driving. It’s a drag.

But what about the quiet time? The moment in the car after you have dropped off your kids and you know they are settling into the day. That is when I truly enjoy a few sips of my latte and contemplate the day that lay ahead of me. Hopefully a few moments of me time mixed in with some work. And some laundry. And some grocery shopping. But let’s not go down that depressing path. Let’s get back to me time.

And do I have plans for me time.

First of all, my rigorous and did I mention, daily exercise schedule will consist of yoga, tennis clinic and weight lifting. My body will be so svelte that I will only be able to shop at the boutiques in Crystal Cove Shopping Center.

A few more colors to pick out and my house will practically be painted before you can say parent-teacher conference. While that may not seem like a me time activity, every since my mother declared my house “cold,” I have wanted to warm it up. To make me (and my mother) happy.

And then there is the Big O that will ultimately change my life. Organization. My family will finally be organized and our lives will run smoothly as if I were Martha Stewart under house arrest.

But as I write this, it occurs to me that my fall list looks an awful lot like my summer list did. There was yoga season pass I used once. The outdoor chairs I never painted. And did I mention my obsession with plastic storage boxes that promised to breed organization?

Alas, each season, whether it is summer fun or autumn school, brings its own expectations and set of emotions. I know that as soon as I drop off my kids at school, my giddiness will turn to tears. Watching my baby walk into kindergarten is a guaranteed Kleenex moment. The summer ending sadness will finally strike and I will become in desperate need of a latte and a chat with Lisa and Susie. I will forget all about my great plans for my new body and a “warm” house with carefully filed contents.

The opportunity to re-connect with my friends and myself is the me time I deserve.

All names have been changed to protect the emotional. Christine can be reached at cfugate2000@yahoo.com.

Note to readers: As I send this to my editor, my heart feels heavy with the devastation of Katrina. I am in touch with mothers in the area who may need support.