MotherReader

I literally have fifteen minutes before I leave for work, but I want to write something today. Actually, that's how I've been feeling all summer - like I'm cramming in a thought or action or activity between things. Random schedules of two active teens matched with my own irregular work schedule superimposed on the long days that my husband spends at work has my mind scrambling to find consistency and connection.

The Kid had theatre/music school weekdays until two and then "Fame" rehearsal every week night. Except when it's canceled. Or when she also has rehearsal on Saturday. Teen is working at Abercrombie a couple of days a week, but she doesn't know what those days are until Saturday. And she also has call-in shifts where they probably won't need her, but she needs to be available. She's also doing a service project at a local shelter and has the nerve to have a social life with friends.

My work schedule is always subject to change, but more so in the summer when I may be covering for coworkers on vacation. When I'm at work in the summer, I'm working hard. Programs of puppet shows and songsters, sure to bring in a crowd. Reshelving books attacked by kids released in the library on rain-soaked days. Readers advisory galore. And behind all of it, a creeping conversation about changes to come in the library system, many of which seem ill-considered.

I wrote about missing summer as a joyful season. But I'm also missing summer as a time to relax from the busy, chaotic schedule of the school year. I'm just tired, and my fifteen minutes are up, so it's time to go to work.