Global warming and other impending crises

Not to be melodramatic about this, but "Free at last, free at last! Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last!"
Never before have I felt so utterly gleeful at my children's return to school. Never has such a tremendous weight been lifted from my shoulders. Never before have I felt like doing a dance upon my liberation.
And yet.
There is this dark and sinking dread looming over my day. It is as ominous as the shadow of the spaceship in some war of the worlds-type film. It is black and unforgiving.

It is summer.

What the hell am I going to do with these kids for ten weeks? How is this possibly going to work without bodily injury to myself or others? I have this recurring nightmare, and it involves being duct-taped to the refrigerator while my children do a racist little Indian chant around me. M will come home to find me there, being prepared for the spit with a whole apple in my mouth like a luau pig. And, worst of all, I have this nightmare while I AM AWAKE.
This is not the kind of nightmare where everything is surreal and bizarre and you are floating through the universe when suddenly hijacked my an alien ship piloted by Glurg, king of the toilet paper people. This is the REAL DEAL, people. I have had a vision of the end.
I am shocked because even my friends who "love" their children and "enjoy spending time with them" are echoing my fears. They say that these school aged years are so different from when they were preschoolers. They say the children are harder (is that possible) to entertain than before. They say that school age children are more difficult to manage without the structure of school. They say this year will be worse than the last.
This is like the global warming of child rearing. You know it's there. You just want to drive your Hummer around and pretend it's not. You know it's going to end badly, and yet, you think, I do love my aerosol cans. Summer is the apocalyptic end that Al Gore has been predicting for us, while we have been cheerily listening to the naysayers. People, we are DOOMED.
So, I can only say I have taken two preliminary steps towards coping with the impending catastrophe. 1. Drinking regularly. This dulls the pain and fuels the denial. 2. Laughter. A good psychotic, maniacal laugh can really scare your kids. However, I have to urge you not to combine the two. Last night, M was teasing E about his manners, and I laughed unexpectedly, blowing a vodka martini out my nose.
You know, that really burns.