Back to school blues

This is the last week of summer vacation.

Oddly, the kids aren't moping around, lamenting the fact that this time next week, they'll be boarding the bus and headed to school. They're eager to get back to class, see their friends and use their colorful, new Crayolas on the armful of pristine-paged, wide-ruled spiral notebooks we bought last week.

But I am.

For me, summer is a time of relaxed schedules, easy-clean-up dinners on the grill and late evenings watching and rooting for our favorites on America's Got Talent. The fall, on the other hand, signals Crunch Time, when our evenings are consumed by homework, early bedtimes and eventually, darkness at 6:30 p.m.

The fall's also Mark and my busiest (read: suckiest) time at work. Our days are chaotic, bull of back-to-back meetings, damn-near impossible deadlines and, for him, calls from angry/upset/confused customers. Don't get me wrong: we love our jobs, but would love to just skip past the fall frenzy if at all possible.

But, on the positive side, this fall also coincides with my last trimester -- a time that typically drags on, week by week, day by day. I'm certain that this time, the last third of my pregnancy will fly past, a mere afterthought from the loads of to do's, both at home and at work.

And so, as we close out another summer, I raise my glass* in solemn reverence, reflecting on a summer spent camping, playing baseball and lounging. Where the only item on my to-do list was to score a tan.

* Normally, it'd be the summer's last sangria, but this time, I have to improvise with a bowl of Moosetracks ice cream.