Long Island News

School Year’s Eve ain’t like New Year’s Eve.

New Year’s Eve is a one day event that begins with anticipation and ends with a “big ball dropping” on Time Square.

“School Year’s Eve,” on the other hand, lasts a few weeks.

It’s that time period between the end of camp and summer “programs” and the start of school when we prepare for everything that we think lies ahead in the new school year and make no mistake…..it is not just for kids. In fact, School Year’s Eve is really not about the school age children at all…it is about the parents of those school age children.

Remember “That’s The Ticket”…the post I wrote about the traffic ticket I got…on my bicycle?!! Well, tonight was my “court date,” my chance to “fight the power,” “the man who tried to put us down.” I waited weeks for this opportunity…even bought a new court outfit…a peace sign t-shirt and a bandana.

I’m out of shape.

“Mommy shape”…….”Parenting shape”……that kind of “shape.”

My kids have been away for seven weeks and a day….that’s 50 days in dog years.

Imagine if you took seven weeks and a day off from your cardio workouts? Missed 50 sessions?

The day you went back to it, took that first run or bike ride, you would feel exhilarated…..and exhausted. Psyched to “be back” and overwhelmed….all at the same time.

There is a god and today she had a laugh at my expense.

After bragging about my previous success at talking my way out of potential speeding tickets when stopped by officers of the law, it happened….

I got a ticket…

On my bicycle!!!!

I ask you, who gets a ticket riding a bike? I’m talking flashing lights, siren behind me and a voice over the loud speaker saying “Pull over.”

I was looking for Allen Funt.

How many “balls” do you have in the air?

I can actually juggle…and when I say “actually,” I mean literally. I learned as a teenager and it is like riding a bike—easy, once you know how. It is a skill I am most proud of (that and this thing I can do to make my stomach move in waves). But I am not talking about the “literal” or “actual” art of juggling objects. I am talking about juggling stuff in your life. Let’s call it “Vuv Juggling.” No, let’s name it “Vuggling.”

I am on a flight to Colorado and due to the runway traffic at LaGuardia and the fact that we were number 92 on line for takeoff, I am one hour into the actual flight time and without reading material. (Three gossip magazines and 27 pages on Kate Gosselin. Who gives a flying sh_t?) So I peer into the little pouch in the back of the seat in front of me. I do this carefully, a two-finger pull back of the stretchy material because this is a place that my 43 years on earth has taught me requires care before entering….like rubber gloves and perhaps a gas mask.