It has begun…you hear it, I know you do.
You feel it, as do I.
That strange buzzing sound that dances around your ears and causes you to cock your head to the left. Or maybe the right. (Go left. Always go left when given a directional choice. The line will be shorter, the path will be less travelled.) There is a noise and a sensation in your belly …perhaps akin to what the Sioux Indians felt when the tatonka crested the buttes? You are giddy.
Something is coming. Something BIG is coming.
No. It’s not The Rapture. Not just yet.
The School Bus! Oh, can I get a hell yes? School is about to be back in session? I am foaming at the mouth as I look at their packed-to-the-brim backpacks. I am reaching, I am reaching, I can almost touch it. SCHOOL! Order! Structure! Nutrionionally sound lunches (and honey wheat pretzels) blessed by the federal government!
(We started decorating for September 3 weeks ago…)
Even if you have just perused this blog, it is safe to say you have determined that my parenting is shoddy at best. Yes, yes. I am an atrocious mother. (P.S. I already know this, but feel free to further bring it to my attention. I can’t wait to read my hate comments). What kind of mother looks forward to shuffling their babies off to school? Why am I not devastated that they will be out of my clutches for and entire 5 hours an 45 minutes each day? Why am I not savoring the last languid days of summer? Why am I not posting my laments of the melancholy coursing through my veins at the idea of sending my children back to the trenches on social media?
I LOVE the school year. My children LOVE the school year. EVERYONE behaves better when school is in session. School calms all people in THIS house. We are structure people, we slather ourselves in construct and activity. We shower ourselves in task. If we wake up with nothing on the calendar, we break out into hives. Relax is not in our DNA.
So, it will come to no surprise to you that at 8:56 am tomorrow when the bus picks my boys up for school, I will be the woman driving around my quaint-northern-predicted-to-repeat-the-frozen-tundra-winter-of-last-year-town BEEP BEEP BEEPING the horn.
Go forth, my sons, and learn! Embrace academia and potty jokes on the playground. I love you to pieces, to the moon and back, I’d give my life for you in a heartbeat, I love spending time with you, but …..
To all my teacher friends, you know I’d endorse tax payer funds to purchase margarita machines for the teachers lounges if I could! Godspeed!