PUKE.

As I was standing at the fridge, hastily eating a popsicle not two minutes ago, I began looking at the school calendar for the month of June.

School trips, great. Exams, fine. Text book return dates, got it. Uniform fittings, already done.

Then I saw the K-6 PD day. Yup. Perfect. K-6. Both Bugs and Brat fall in the K-6 scheme.

But then I realized something that may well have traumatized me for life (or at least until this orange popsicle melts into my keyboard and I have something else to worry about).

In four weeks school is over. Bugs will come home with his report card, and in it will be his classroom assignment(s) and teacher(s) for next year. HUH?!?!?!

What?!?!?! How is it possible? He's in junior high next year? Next year? No. That's not right. I'm barely 31, how can I possibly have a child in junior high? How? I'm not old. I'm not. I keep saying it inside my own head.

I'm not old. "NOT OLD!" I say again- this time I said it out loud. It's true I'm not old. I won't even be 32 until after he's in junior high.

But my boy isn't a baby anymore either. PUKE. (Yeah, I used every single font alteration I could think of to illustrate that word. Your point?)

There. I was afraid of that. I yarped in my own mouth a bit just now.

Gah. That's horrid. That's it. I demand a time machine. I wish to go back in time at least four years (just me, not the rest of them, I am not starting this "diaper/ pregnancy/ not old enough to babysit yet" nonsense all over again).

But now that I'm mulling it over, it's not too bad. Bugs will be old enough to babysit about halfway through the summer. That means free time for me...

Hmmmm. Okay, I guess it's alright that he's getting a bit older. He can stop right after he's old enough to babysit though. That's where I draw the line. I simply REFUSE to have a child getting ready for college or university (or life) in 6 years.

 In six years, Monster will be in Gr. 1. And Brat will be going into junior high, and I'll be in the exact same mindset then, I'm sure of it.