I know it’s back-to-school time when:

1. Retailers move out the patio furniture to make room for school supplies in July. I hate it when Christmas arrives in stores before I get my Halloween candy. But somehow, buying three-ring notebooks and colored pencils is ok even if I’m still buying sunscreen and ice cream sandwiches.

2. I am opening the four-week-old registration packet the night before Mascot day, the deadline for paperwork including an online proof-of-purchase for a “free” public education. Ouch! I’m just not revved up for requests for doctors, dentists, next of kin, contact numbers, insurance, Internet waivers, signatures from the child and both parents to acknowledge the carefully read school policies. (It’s the only time my kids practice cursive; I guess this is their penmanship lesson for the year.)

3. Coffee houses are crowded all day. Vacations are over and it’s time to stock up. No lines at the bean counter except on a Saturday before school starts. Really? It’s 2 pm. Maybe a jolt of Joe is replacing the summer snooze.

4. Grocery stores are jammed. There’s no parking. You want to run over the still-in-vacation-mode shoppers with your shopping cart. Do you have to leave your cart in the middle of the aisle while you peruse the spaghetti sauces? Just let me at the basil and chunky tomato and you can go back to dreaming of your summer trip to Italy.

5. Sailing through checkout is a lottery-ticket win. I want to shoot the customer ahead of me asking for the poker game equivalent of a full-house in cash: “Can I get two twenties, three tens and two fives?” Then she hesitates over the combination the checker dealt; it’s all he had in the drawer. She moves two feet to arrange the bills in her wallet while I turn into a pretzel to log in my club card; I can’t scoot my cart any further. I’m afraid of what I might say so I say nothing to her. Clearly, she does not have a back-to-schooler. Did I mention her 10-minute-felt-like-30 transaction was the Express Lane?

Backyard project worth every TV episode.

6. The TV background noise is killing me. Netflix enabled my kids to catch up on six seasons of “The Office” as they missed it during the elementary school years. I can’t really say no because they read for two hours, practiced drums, spent 3 hours in 90 degree heat for football, or worked on the summer backyard project for “free” because dad said the satisfaction of seeing a finished project is payment enough.

7. Fights ignite with just a spark. “Stop being a butt!” “You’re a butt!” Mom settles it. “Guys! Knock it off! You’re both butts.”

For me.

8. My boys want to shop. Do we ever outgrow the thrill of fresh pencils, paper and crayons? I’m a pushover for a new box of 64 crayolas; magenta is still my favorite. “I love back-to-school shopping. I can’t wait to get a new pencil.” Wish I’d known that on your thirteenth birthday.

9. I am sooooo happy. Really I am. I know it sounds like I want to strangle everyone in my path. The light at the end of the tunnel puts the spring into my step. This is the true “new year”  and best for resolutions.  I’ve been deprived of myself for three months.  I will take time for me. I will see my friends more and exercise more. I will eat less and drink less and therefore weigh less. And it will last at least a month.

*My apologies for any confusion regarding the two previous posts.  My blog was hacked.  I’m hacked. “Really?  You have nothing better to do than harass a mom?”  I just don’t get the hacking gig.  Where is the reward?  The pope post was FRESH.  I got a letter back from the pope, including an autographed picture.  I’ll get better with the titles.

The best part of this confusion: I know you are reading and miss me if my stuff isn’t fresh.  THANK YOU!