My husband took the language test last Thursday. No, we haven't heard anything yet.
He went away Friday night with our oldest son for the weekend for a cub scout camping trip. They were gone two nights. I stayed home with our other two children. It's great that my husband and son got one-on-one father-son time. But it was tiring for me, right after wrapping up the big language push. One-on-one for him, means two-on-one for me.
This coming weekend my husband is doing the same thing with our younger son. And again, I am staying home with the other two children. The camping child will come home with stories of awards in marksmanship, b-bguns fired, archery, whittling, crafts, swimming, campfire stories, roasted marshmallows, friends made, nature hikes, meals shared in the dining hall under the watchful eye of freaky taxidermied deer. Fun, fun, fun.
I can't compete with that. Apparently, mom isn't fun. (Apparently she slips into writing about herself in third person sometimes.)
Last night, during bedtime hugs, my 8 yr old son told me he was bored this summer and ready to go back to school. While I think that's a load of you know what, I can't help it, I take that personally. These kids have been swimming, to the summer recreation program, playing with friends, gone to Missouri, gone to Grandma's, gone to Grandpa's and Step-grandma's, gone to chess camp/ video game design camp, gone to fencing camp, gone to gymnastics camp, we got a new basketball hoop, plus we have three birthdays, I mean come on!!!!!!