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48 Hours

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In just 48 hours my son will be back in the continental United States. Twenty-four hours after that he will be at his high school freshmen orientation. Wow. How did that happen? I remember his first day of kindergarten like it was yesterday. No tears of abandonment from him, no sir-ree. The only tears shed that day were mine. In fact, I distinctly remember him saying more than once, “Mom, you can leave now.? Oh, the curse of raising a confident, independent child! With less than two weeks of summer vacation left, I•m now scrambling to cram in a whole summer’s worth of activities in two weekends. Two weekends of 48 hours each. This is the time of year when being a “working mom? really gets in the way of your life. And so I fantasize, only during my lunch hour of course, about what I would do if I had the rest of the summer off, and I didn•t have to use vacation days. I’d go hiking with my sister and her merry band of stay-at-homes, I would take my son and his buddies to the water slide at Lincoln Park and force them to have fun, we’d go camping in the middle of the week when you could get a campsite, catch a flight to a beach somewhere, rent a cabin and a canoe on a lake, sleep in and go out for breakfast at 11:00, get sun burned and bug-bitten while fishing, eat ice cream sundaes for lunch, sit around a campfire and tell really bad ghost stories, and just spend time with family visiting from far away and nearby. The truth is, we do all that stuff - and more - now. We just do it in a compact period of time, like every weekend, for 48 hours. That’s when I get to be a stay-at-home. Those are some of my favorite 48 hours. But you know, the rest of the week is pretty good too!

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