Family Daze: Spring Break Arrives Early

The calendar has been cruel this year. Spring may have arrived right on time, but my kids’ school’s spring break is uncharacteristically early, which has meant all sorts of problems at the Farmer homestead, and if my friends are any indication, families across the nation.

For instance, my friend Nancy is a work-at-home mother. She analyzes reports or something like that. All I really know is that she has four maniacal young boys between the ages of six and 11, who are suddenly at home, and that she’s not having much luck getting any work done, except at night when everyone’s sleeping. At least that’s what I think she said. It sounded like she was tied up and gagged when she called. I wonder if she wanted me to call for help.

And then there’s my friend, Daphne. Now that my kids are well past the Easter egg dyeing and hunting stage, I no longer have to worry about buying a couple dozen eggs, dyeing them and hiding them in clever spots, but not so clever that they stay hidden until suddenly one day you have a mysterious odor emanating from behind the sofa. Not that that’s ever happened to me.

But back to Daphne. She has twin four-year-olds and when I last saw her at a coffeehouse, after a few minutes of talking about her girls, I casually asked if the Easter Bunny was dropping by her house. Daphne turned white and ran out the door, almost getting into a fender bender as her tires squealed out of the parking lot.

And I already know that an early spring break will wreck havoc with my thinking. I know that at least once during the week I’m going to wake up, look at the clock, scream that we’ve overslept, throw on some clothes, probably backwards and inside out, and race out the door and drive to school before realizing halfway there that there is no school and my kids are back home asleep, anyway.

And since spring break is usually a sign that summer is just around the corner, usually I use that week to start planning, plotting and preparing for another summer of chauffeuring my daughter to the mall and my son to soccer practice. I also can emotionally steel myself, knowing that it’ll be several months where the kids will appear to have taken control of every corner of the house; and, oh, sure, you might think that this gives me another month to get ready, but I’m still brushing off the last crumbs of winter. In fact, that reminds me that we have Christmas lights to take down off the roof.

Don’t get me wrong. I do enjoy spring break. One nice thing that never changes whether it’s in March or April: I get to pretend that I’m at the peak of the mothering game. I can be out in public and say loudly things like, "By, golly, the last four days in a row, my kids haven’t been late to school, and they haven’t missed any homework."

It’s also possibly the only time during the school year that I’m still considered a reliable member of the carpool.

And there is one nice benefit of having an early spring break. I don’t have to think about going outside in a bathing suit. I can remain in my winter ways of wearing long pants with elastic waistbands over my pasty white legs. The world will no longer see that my stomach is pale and flabby and that the backs of my thighs have the same texture as Play-Doh that’s been run over by a waffle iron.

You know, maybe an early spring break isn’t so bad, after all.