The End

Endings evoke dread.  We know they're coming.  Plus, with each ending comes the beginning of something else.  The fear of which, making it easy to get nostalgic about how great things were.  And how they'll never be exactly that way again.  In fact things probably look pretty near perfect.  Because the mind is a tricky bastard.  Except when it comes to summer.  Because while I'll miss it, I can't wait for it to end.

Because I'm exhausted.

Endings tend to wear on you like that.  They hold some ambiguity.  When will my kids' fighting end? And what about the entitlement, whining, complaining, laziness and blaring that crap that they call music?  Then something starts to happen.  You stop caring and give up, not entirely so child services shows up at your door or anything.  But enough that you don't care how much time they spend staring at a screen anymore.  Because electronics don't require you to chauffeur your kid anywhere.  Your kid will probably even forget to eat, so it even saves on food costs.

Did I mention I'm exhausted?

After a jam packed summer with 4 kids 24/7 giving them constant lectures about picking up after themselves and nagging them to reapply sunscreen, not to mention teaching a kid to drive and pleading with my kids to go outside,  perhaps my parental judgement might be compromised.  Like I've decided to just stay out of their sibling fights, while imagining the worst case scenario.  Which at this point I've decided is that I'd have one less kid to buy school supplies for.  And I must admit, right about now that doesn't sound too bad.  I've lost both my patience and my mind.  

Because I'm exhausted.

The End.