Yesterday I had a sudden, unexplained urge to reorganize something, so I tore apart our pantry and started putting in new shelving. This morning I woke up feeling impending doom, and it wasn’t because I hadn’t finished organizing our pantry yet. I think it’s because today is the last day of school.

As of this writing, I have a mere 2-½ hours before my children will be home for the summer. I think the sudden urge to reorganize something is me grasping at my last bit of control before my kids are home. The pantry doesn’t argue over its new and improved look; my children, however, are a different story.

Two hours and 25 minutes from now, I will be responsible for ruining my teens’ summer for the next two months. They both even have summer homework, which is really a bigger curse for the parents than it is for the kids.

In two hours and 20 minutes, I will be solely responsible for making sure they do their chores, plus some summer-type chores thrown in, like pulling a weed or two, poop scooping, walking the dogs. I will anticipate them getting in some minor trouble and will then get to add extra-ordinary chores to their list. One summer they got in trouble over using the Internet when they weren’t supposed to; not once but twice (I do give warnings). That summer I got my windows washed, the siding on the house washed, a new bed in my garden dug, some rocks picked and the patio hosed off.  I can only hope.

In two hours and 15 minutes, I will have to monitor their night owl habits of staying up until their dad leaves for work at 4:30 in the morning. I will make them go to bed before the sun comes up and I will get them up at the ungodly hour of 10 a.m.

In two hours and 10 minutes, I will further be responsible for ruining their summer by taking them camping, away from Internet access. I will let them play their Gameboys and listen to their iPods only while we are driving, then I will make them turn off their electronics and pay attention to their parents. I may even make them play board games with us.

I will continue an argument, in two hours and five minutes, with one of my daughters over her summer reading choice (part of her summer homework), which I’m insisting be at her grade level, not some easy fourth grade book.

In two hours I will squash their aspirations of attempting to advance their careers by playing, listening to, or watching electronics. While everything is off, they will pick up a pencil, marker, or paint brush and use their hand to advance their artistic talents.

In less than two hours they will be home for the summer. I am finishing the pantry as soon as I am finished writing this. But I suppose no amount of organization will make this feeling of impending doom go away. But it’s nothing Sept. 1 won’t cure.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. She is committed to writing about the humor amidst the chaos of a family. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com.