To Whom It May Concern:

The rain? Please make it stop. It’s late August, practically September, and lawns should be brown and crunchy. It helps that you don’t have to mow as often when you’re rushing around trying to pack every last fun thing into your summer. But this year? The lawn is green and lush. It’s not natural. It’s still growing, and still needs to be mowed.

The temperature? Sixty degrees is not late August weather. That’s October weather, when you want to bundle up in a sweater and thoughts turn to all things fall-ish. Late August weather should be in the 80s. Still warm enough to swim, to run around barefoot and to fool yourself into thinking the summer will last forever. And? I don’t care if it somehow snows in August. I refuse to wear a coat, just on general principle.

The calendar? How did it get to be the end of August? How did eight months go by without anyone noticing? How can I be done with vacation already? I’m lost without the planning and dreaming and checking and preparing. And I don’t really care that the new season of Lost, or Desperate Housewives, or (insert your show here) will be starting again soon. I don’t want to go back to commuting in the dark to and from work. It makes me feel like a vampire.

And for the love of all things holy, please someone tell me how C can be old enough to be starting kindergarten? She was just a baby and now she runs around and wants her ears pierced and knows who the Cheetah Girls are and sings the Baby Bottle Pop commercial incessantly. How and when did my baby turn into a kid?