The last few weeks of summer slipped away so fast, I barely had time to breathe, let alone blog. I can’t get over how quickly this summer just flew by. We did so many fantastic things and had such a good time, and yet, we didn’t even get to half of the things on the Summer of Awesome list. There’s just so many great things to do in this city, too many.

And now it’s fall, and school, and my babies are gone again all day long. Even the little one is gone every morning now. Summer is over, and now I feel the years ticking away too. How many more Summers of Awesome can we squeeze in, until the kids are more interested in going to the mall with their friends or working a summer job?

Too few, is the answer. Too few.

Wow, when did this post become such a downer?

My real point here is that the blog topics are building up to critical levels, which means you’re in for the exciting Point! Form! Post!, so I can catch up and start the new school year with a clean slate.

Summing up the Summer of Awesome – well, it was awesome! The big ones were Saunders Farm, camping (Lord Help Me), Mont Cascades, and the approximately one million birthday parties we attended. I started making a comprehensive list of everything we did but I think no one wants to hear about that except my own 65-year-old self, so I will suffice it to say it was a great summer, and I’m sad to see it end.

Canadian! Dance! Show! – I’ve had the entire season of So You Think You Can Dance Canada on the PVR all summer long and I’ve been catching up this week. The more I watch, the more irate I get. I’m up to the top 10 show now and if I didn’t like Jordan so much, I’d walk away from this season. Walking away. FROM DANCE SHOW. That’s how angering it is.

I have a huge list of complaints but here they are in a nutshell: the stupid judges are protecting the ballroom dancers and it’s getting ridiculous; the stupid judges went and got rid of all the hip hop dancers and now the field is uniform, boring, and no one can do Luthor’s amazing choreography; the stupid judges never have anything meaningful to say because they never, ever say anything negative, and I have to listen to FIVE of them say nothing every time (thank God for the skip button); Leah Miller is fake and the stuff they write for her to say is unbearable and she is not Cat Deely and that is A Problem; the constant switching of partners is stupid and again, heavily favours the ballroom dancers, and has prevented from bonding with anyone; also, Matt, Adam, and Kevin are the same person and they are NOT FOOLING ANYONE.

I was in total denial about lunch making this morning. I really thought that if I didn’t do anything to prepare, it just would magically happen on its own. Like, the lunch fairies would come in the night and make three little lunches out of sheer sympathy for me.

But sadly, the lunch fairies appeared to be busy elsewhere. BITCHES.

So as anyone with half a brain could have predicted, I had a bit of a struggle this morning when I couldn’t find the lunch bags, then couldn’t remember which fold-and-lock lid went with which reuseable container, then stood dumbfounded in front of our fridge for 20 minutes while I just could not believe that I just could not remember a single thing I used to put in the school lunches.

I did used to send food for them, didn’t I? Apparently I’ve blocked that all out.

I managed to make it happen, though, and even remembered to pack the pre-filled water bottles at the last second, and everyone made it out the door and to school on time.

I should BE a lunch fairy.

Except that it would probably send me to an early grave.

And I don’t nearly have the wings for it.

Now if only we could get the shoelace-tying down – we’ve moved away from velcro for the first time this year for the older two and OH THE HEARTACHE. Remember in the days before velcro shoes, when we all had to learn to tie shoes by the time we were four? My mom faithfully kept a baby book for each of her kids and on the page where it says I walked (11 months) and was potty trained (22 months, although to hear my mother talk about my poor kids and their extended diaper wearing, I was wiping my own butt at age 3 weeks), there’s also an entry that says I tied my own shoes before I went to kindergarten.

And now, oh the woe of a Grade Three-er who has to master tying. THE WOE. Today we caved and sent one in Crocs and one in last year’s broken down runners.

Tomorrow, THE WOE.

How many more months of this, do you think?