That was my facebook status on August 1st. My mom had remarked that I would be needing a box of tissues on that graduation day to which I replied that the middle and the youngest were already taking bets on whether or not I would cry the first day of school. As it turns out, I didn't even make it that far.
I took the daughter to the high school last night for her freshmen orientation. Her school is starting what they call Freshmen Academy this year which just basically means that freshmen are on a different bell schedule than the rest of the school. Taking into account this school has over 1600 students, I don't think that's a bad idea, so last night was just all about them.
We fought with her locker for a while which already had her monstrous-sized textbooks inside. Back on the first when the kids registered, they were given their books and lockers that day... again, not another bad idea. We knew this locker opened because the middle had already demonstrated it that particular day. Last night, though, we weren't having a lot of luck.
We weren't the only ones. Sheesh. I think the whole locker thing is half the battle. A man nearby was armed with a can of WD-40 to which we gladly accepted; I don't know that it did much good, though. We finally figured out that her best bet was to just get mad and give it a good yank. We even called the oldest brother and with his four years of locker expertise, he agreed.
You can bet I will praying about that darn locker.
I was hot and frustrated by that point while the girl of mine was cool and collected. After she was done messing with her locker, she said she would like to walk the halls to find all her classes. First hall, second hall... maybe up to a fifth hall (?) and then those halls break off to the right and left (think squares, the middle keeps repeating in my head)... all I did was follow her around like so many other moms in the building. It was somewhere in the middle of all that that I began to realize I really was not ready for this.
Each time she found a class, she would walk inside to introduce herself to the teacher. This was done while I waited in the hallway at her request. I was standing outside one particular door leaning my face against the cool concrete wall feeling like a complete dork (hey, can't think of a better word) and listening to the faint echoes of her voice from inside the room. It was at that point that the strangest thought occurred to me as tears welled up in my eyes,
What in the world have I done?
I raised this confident daughter (not alone, mind you) who is perfectly comfortable in her own skin. She didn't need her mom trailing behind and telling the teacher her strengths and weaknesses. She did all that on her own. Her brothers are just the same. Oh, I know they still need their mom for things like clean laundry, supper on the table, and the occasional listening ear, but for the most part, they are independent and determined and just how I always wished I could be.
This is why I had them making their own lunches in kindergarten * and learning to do dishes while standing on a step stool and teaching them to try to address problems (whether with a friend or with a teacher) on their own before they brought to me. They are turning into the young
The oldest is talking about spreading his wings and taking off on his own... just talking, Mom, he says. The middle is starting his own journey, following on the heels of his dad, in criminal justice... my boy, in law enforcement? And the youngest tells me just to wait in the hall... who is that girl?
She's mine.
They're all mine.
God help us all.
* and just so you don't think my kids went to kindergarten with candy and cupcakes and soda, we had the lunch-making rule: one PB & J sandwich, one piece of fruit, one snacky-type thing, and one juice box. I kept everything within their reach and it worked out very well, not to mention it gave me a little extra time to fix my own lunch (or at least no excuse not to).
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