This week began another new school year for my youngest child. Child, as we tend to call her, is a junior in high school. This is a difficult concept for me to grasp at times, and one that, other times, I embrace wholeheartedly. I am one of the many parents that will send their child off to school hoping and praying that all will go well. The prayer goes something like this “Dear (Insert your belief here), please help my child get through today. Help this child be respectful, in the capacity in which he/she can (which in no way reflects what I have actually taught him/her), be there to guide them to make the right decisions (which will in no way resemble the decisions that I would make for him/her) and please help me to help him/her when I pick them up from school and hear, for the 700th time, “I hate school” to find the words of wisdom that will at least allow for the ride home to be tolerable. AMEN!
I have been through this ritual, in some capacity, for the last 20 years of my life. I have only two more years to go before I send the final offspring off to college and anxiously wait for the butterfly to sprout from the cocoon. In other words, I see the light at the end of the tunnel; the thought of enjoying my children as adults is almost a reality!
I jest, mostly because it keeps me sane as I traverse this phase of parenthood, which for me has been, by far, the most difficult. I have these amazing kids that have taught me so much about life by allowing me to accompany them on their journey. It has also been harrowing at times. I have watched my children be picked apart and discarded by friends, I have seen teachers abuse their influence to the detriment of a student, namely my child, I have learned to be my child’s strongest advocate, biggest cheerleader, benignant counselor, punching bag, soft spot to fall, and mom. I have tried to remind them that this too shall pass, only to recall the pain it caused me all those years ago.
This first day of school has evolved from the first to the almost last. The first was the first step for them into a world of independent thinking, making choices for themselves, and discovering their own likes and dislikes without any input from me. For me the first was that gut wrenching moment when I let go of their hand and realized that this was the beginning of their life without me, the realization that, if I did my job, they would be able to walk away, make a friend, and go about their day without being bogged down by the desire to have me there with them.
As all you parents face the beginning of the school year, maybe your first, or maybe your last, just remember to stop, take a breath, and enjoy the moment before the chaos. It flies by, one day you are in the kindergarten drop off line, then you blink and you find yourself standing at graduation, program in hand, asking “how did this happen?” These are amazing, crazy, memorable, and intense; joy filled and stress filled (in equal measure), years that you will look back upon forever. Enjoy them as I have for they have left their indelible mark on my life’s story.
