End o’ Summer Blues

It may not be the coldest August ever, and it may not be the wettest, but you couldn’t prove it by me. The days have been crawling around in the 70s, one or two peaks around 81 degrees. Nights have been in the 50s. This would not have been the summer that saved our community pool (had it not closed after last summer, when a sopping wet June and early July chased away prospective members). Holding out hope for a beautiful fall, but it seems like the three seasons are a wash and all we can really hope for is a nice cold, snowy winter to make up for it (I’m a skier, so shoot me).

Miserable night. After going to sleep at 9 or so all during vacation and getting decent sleep despite lying on the ground, I’m now unable to assemble a sleep pattern in my own bed. Last night I went up early (with the intention of biking this morning), and slept fitfully for an hour or so before being awakened by the unholy trinity — itchy skin, twitchy legs, and a nasty mosquito (again with the mosquitoes!) that kept trying to get into my ear canal. Three or four tries at that and I was wide awake. (Which is a shame, because I’ve got a new fall biking jersey I would have been able to try this morning . . . it’s currently 55 degrees.)

Why does my daughter have to go to middle school? All this drama and anxiety — which “house” she’s in, whether it’s the right house, whether her friends (and the right friends) are in it . . . all so important, and there’s nothing we can do about any of it. Very frustrating. Also frustrating to be at the point where we can no longer provide her all the support she needs in her life (and soon, of course, she won’t care what we think about anything at all). Who came up with this stupid idea to have kids grow up, anyway?