It’s time for one around here. It is August 1, after all, and if he can do it, so can I. July was a joke (oh, where did you go?) and here it is, the month of all things for prepping and planning. Only how in the world am I supposed to do any prepping and planning when my brain is still trying to figure out where we live and what that means?

Okay, so we moved two weeks ago; I get an automatic extra dose of excuseage, right? Maybe, but guess what – we’re mostly unpacked. I’ve done almost everything that constitutes noticeable settling. All that remains is to stop staring at the remaining box of “what in the world” and reunite all those little random pieces of whatever back with the family groups from which they originated.

We need to hang some pictures. We need the bookshelf guy to get here and put up the bookshelf we’ve asked him to build so we can get the piles and piles of books off the floor. I need to haul the boxes of out- of-season clothes from the basement to the attic (read: three flights of stairs; about 10 boxes). It’s all just little stuff, but stuff that isn’t fun to do anymore, and the longer I put it off the more likely it is the stuff will blend in with the 1980’s peach walls with blue and white floral border that I’m dying to peel off.

I’ve been so consumed this summer with the move and with getting ready for Classical Conversations, that I’ve somehow failed to realize that, oh yes, I still need to plan the rest of our schooling, too. In my mind I kept thinking, “Oh, that can wait until August.” Then today I looked at the calendar and realized the awful truth: I’m out of time. August is here.

I’ve got about 5 books to read, a class I’m teaching not only to my children, but to others to prepare for, and four kids to plan the school year out for. It’s time for a little educational freak out. And maybe time to pull out some paper and begin setting the scope and sequence for the year. Yikes. Maybe our school year should start in mid-September this year. Guess I’ll have to talk to the principal about it.

Oh summer, we barely knew you. Come back when you can stay longer, okay?