Only five weeks left of school and then SUMMER VACATION BEGINS!  (Not that I’m counting.)

As with anything you look forward to, the anticipation of summer vacation is better than the vacation itself.  When I was a kid we started the countdown the day after spring break ended. Whether you liked school or not, it was a betrayal of childhood if you didn’t curse those last two and a half months of academic incarceration.

Now that I’m a parent I still look forward to summer vacation…sort of.  I work at home, so I’m not thrilled by the idea of having my little darlings constantly asking me what time it is (when they can all read a clock) or can I make them a sandwich (What, are your arms broken?) or can they make a parachute and jump off the roof to see if it works just like it did on Mythbusters (hey, at least they asked first). 

However, there are parental perks to summer vacation, the biggest one being the reprieve from homework.  No longer do I have the routine debate with a sixth grader about how you pronounce spelling words like corps and nuclear.  Nor do I have to negotiate exactly when he’ll get his homework done.  I’d like him to get it out of the way immediately after he comes home from school, but of course, he’d rather wait until right before bed, because you know, why do it earlier when you could be playing Beatles Rock Band instead.

And once school’s out for the summer, my job as designated driver for Mom’s Taxi Service decreases immensely.  Gone are the band concerts, multiple music lessons, orthodontist appointments, pep rallies, play practices, science fairs, and basketball games to which I’m expected to shuttle everyone, sometimes with the dilemma of having to be in two places at once.  (Okay, so we still have the orthodontist gig in the summer, but that’s relatively mild compared to the rest.)  Fortunately, our town provides free public bus service.  So if my kids want to spend a summer afternoon at the skateboard park or the dirt bike track, they can darn well get there on their own.  I really don’t care what they do during the months of June, July, and August as long as it’s not A) illegal, B) harmful, and C) I don’t have to drive them.

Yes, summer vacation is a mixed bag for parents, but I have a summer vacation fantasy that outweighs anything you’d ever read in trashy novel.  It goes like this:  Every morning I awaken to the sound of the cappuccino machine hissing in the kitchen (but not before 8:00) as my children blend the perfect soy latte.  They bring it to me in bed, along with a warm chocolate croissant, The New York Times, and my laptop so that I may check email and work on my Great American Novel in the comfort of a king size bed that I have all to myself.

When I finally emerge, I enter a kitchen that has already been cleaned up from the nutritious breakfast my dear sweet children prepared for themselves. The dogs and cat have been fed, all beds have been made, teeth have been brushed, kids are dressed and everyone stands in line to kiss mom and wish her a wonderful day, just as they go out the door for play dates (my boys cringe when I use that term; “It’s hanging out, Mom.”) they lined up themselves, at which they will be gone until 4:30, when they come back to help their father prepare dinner.  After dinner they clean the kitchen (to my satisfaction), we play a board game (with no fights over who gets to be the blue marker) or we watch a movie (that we all agree on) or we sit by the fire pit on the back deck and have a meaningful discussion that doesn’t include words like booger or dorkhead.  Then everyone puts themselves to bed so I can watch The Daily Show with Jon Stewart in peace, accompanied by my perfectly brewed herbal tea and one square of dark chocolate.

I mean, honestly, is that asking too much? 

Apparently it is, because by August 1^st I’m counting down the days until school starts, at which time my fantasy changes to one where kids drive themselves to school even though they haven’t graduated middle school yet.

Even as a parent, I never stop dreaming.