My twin sons begin high school next week. I’m not ready.
Don’t get me wrong. They’ll have fun, and hopefully, learn a few things. I did. High school was where I came out of my shell and learned a lot about what I wanted from life.
Every year, I have mixed emotions about my kids going back to school. The lazy days of summer are my favorite. No homework, no lunches, not too many sports practices or meets. We have coffee on the porch and talk about life. We go for ice cream any time we feel like it. We take rides in my convertible and turn the music up loud. There are pool parties, family reunions, cook-outs and sleepovers. Movies, books and fireworks.
When school rolls around in the fall, the calendar fills up. My stress level goes up. But my daily free time also increases. Thinking about the free time I’ll have later this month sends excitement thrumming through my veins. I can finish the next Witches Anonymous book and begin the fifth super agent book. I can live inside my head and listen to my characters for hours at a time. I can go the bathroom without a kid yelling, “Mom, what’s for lunch?” through the closed door.
But if I had a choice? I’d probably keep them home. Safe. Convenient. Much less stress. We’ve talked seriously about home schooling, and while I enjoy teaching…I can’t teach my own kids. Not the way they need.
Starting high school is a major transition. As I dropped them off for golf and marching band practice this week, I felt a little sick to my stomach. New teachers, new coaches, a huge building compared to the middle school. Geometry. Chemistry. Physics. Oh, my. Were they ready for this? Really ready? Was I?
The next four years loom in front of me like a dark hole. Much like when I carted them to preschool the first day, I wonder…how do I make sure we all come out on the other side safe and happy?
How about you? Do you have a love/hate relationship with the beginning of a new school year?