School's out for the summer...and it don't mean a damn thing for me

The rush of the end-of-year school stuff is over for now (prom, graduation, reunoin, year-end meetings, etc), the faculty have left us the hell alone and we've launched our new intranet, so why do I still feel so damn busy? There are many things about adulthood that suck, and not living my life by a school schedule is certainly one of them. I need a summer vacation!! While it looked like my job was actually going to make good on a promise to be family friendly and give me summers off, that was just a lark--they can't follow through with any of their promises to make it easy for a working mom to both work and be a mom, so here I am in mid-June in my office and miserable. I'm not going to complain too much more, though. I've decided instead to drag this place kicking and screaming into the working mom's world. Clementine is only going to be in daycare 3 days a week tops, and I'm going to work from home the other 2-3 days if it kills me (and them). There ain't no way I'm gonna miss out on my walking, talking, smiling little honey's first summer. And that's it. I'm also taking all the vacation time off I can to hit the road and have some fun. We're going camping for a week at the end of June, and that's just the beginning of our adventures. Know who else is ready for summer?


Catch!

The weather has been beautiful, but it's about to get much hotter. We've been hanging out in the yard as much as possible, and we were finally able to introduce Clementine to the beloved Impala. Yes, this is the car in which Nate and I were married, the car which he built with his dad and family when he was a young teenager, the car which carried us across the country on the world's best road trip. I would love to say it's the car in which Clementine was conceived, but that happened in the winter time (the Impala don't know no snow), and I'm pretty sure neither of us should have been anywhere near the wheel of a car that night (if it's the night I think it was) anyway.


Although I love seeing her play in the Impala, I'm not so sure about taking her for a ride in it. It's a 1965, so the whole seatbelt thing was an option. There are 2 in the front and none in the back. Since there is no airbag, I think that means I can put her babyseat in the front, but I feel so hyper-programmed not to ever ever do that. Anyone have knowledge of how babies and classic cars can get along? Needless to say, I can't even think about the day she decides to learn to drive the thing.


I guess it's back to work for now. That or I need to haul my cookies outside and go for a run before the day turns into a scorcher. I haven't mentioned my lofty goals here for fear of feeling trapped and unable to back out, but I'm training to run a half marathon, emphasis on the HALF. I know 13 miles isn't such a big deal (especially compared to the 26 that constitute the whole thing), but I have been feeling like I need a new goal. When I was knocked up, I was at the gym almost 5 times a week sweating, running (until almost 8 months!) and chanting "easy and comfortable labor" to get through it. Know what? It totally worked! But since Clementine came along I haven't been as good as I want to be about being in shape. My training is pretty low key, but I'm amazed at how easy running can be if you do it enough. I could give a shit about speed--I'm much more interested in distance, and a long run isn't nearly as awful as it used to be. I ran a 10K a few weeks ago and struggled to finish; now I can run about as far and talk and laugh the whole time--with someone, that is, not just crazy by myself.

But I digress. The sooner I'm outta here, the sooner I'm rollin' with my girl. Look at the attitude: