I really like this Retro Villa type press box. This would be a fun project. For example, on a day when all the uniforms are laid out for the first day of school, the lunches packed, the small people very excited to return to pencils and books.
Then, you find out at the last moment that there is no electricity at their school thanks to hurricane Irene. Somehow, the school couldn't update their website to tell you this ahead of time. Everyone is bummed. Tears flow, and not just the author's. You then rouse yourself, if drinking coffee in bed at 9am counts, as couch cushions are being flung to and fro downstairs as a nod to creative play. The goal is to plan a fun activity. The previous four words are stated rather flatly in case it doesn't come through in the written word. You try to be enthusiastic. Hey everyone, let's make organic soy candles today and include bits of hurricane scrap in them!
Or perhaps make some hurricane stick art! via Poppytalk
Ok, time to scrape the barrel. I've instinctively done a LOT of these this summer. Yesterday, they made mud pies in the front yard to construct fairy houses. We've played games. In fact, just the other day I was sitting under a sheet fort, wearing a headband that said "I'm a hammer" in the name of boardgames. I'm a good sport sometimes! We've visited farms, made popsicles, done sidewalk chalk, watched movies, read books, learned jokes. I was taught last week what an Atomic Wedgie was. I taught Junior the "2s" on her times tables last weekend, so she'll be ready to take her SATs. I took a Power Ranger on a transatlantic flight, for pete's sake. Why can't a fairy Godmother show up and whisk them away for a few hours? Perhaps she sees through her crystal ball that Junior is walking around with a walkie talkie clipped to his underwear. It's true, oh yes.
So, I guess we're off to the beach to collect seashells and then to Ikea to buy a frame for a seashell montage. Did I mention Husband is on call again? Did you come here to hear complaints? Sorry 'bout that. Ikea, however, has a free hour of babysitting at Smaland and you can feed your kids for $11, including vegetables. It bums me out when I get like this, when parenting isn't the excellent fun it usually is. Of course, after a few hours in their absence I'd suffer withdrawal and be longing for Junior to say "Hi Fartson!" when he saw me. Sadly, I have not been able to rid him of the potty talk this summer, which really should be added to the Summer Fun poster. I think I'm going back to sleep now.