Overwhelmed

Jake may simply be trying to smile into the sun, but his face sure does look like I feel right about now.

And no, it's not snowing in VA.  Old picture.

Jake is eight-years-old.  He's in second grade.  He's smart, funny, and a really good boy.  And he's doing great.

His mommy is thirty-years-old.  She's got a college degree.  And, although she'd like to think she's also smart, funny, and a really good girl, she's not doing so great.  She's overwhelmed.

I'm overwhelmed.  By second grade.

There's homework every day.  There's a project every month.  There's Focus (we used to call it GT, but I think that's politically incorrect now) with a big research project.  There's cub scout badge requirements.  There's a block of wood sitting on my counter that needs to become a Pinewood Derby car.  There's baseball practice.  There's bedtime.

Did I mention the child is eight and at some point needs to run and play, preferably outside?

And all I can think, as I make my lists of due dates, is "If this is elementary school, what is high school going to do to me?"