School is back in session. Summer went out with tacit complacency, much like it always seems to do, with pizza and swimming and early bedtimes. And as much as I hate someone else, or in this case something else, dictating my time, I have found, at least in this first week, that I have enjoyed having a routine again.
MG took right to her classroom, much like I thought she would. This year there was less trepidation from both of us. And I am reminded of how starting kindergarten in a new state is not for the faint of heart.
This time last year, I was an emotional wreck (I think that’s actually a very accurate description), not only from the new start of school and for having a school-aged child for the first time, but also the impending move and stress of trying to sell our Indiana house. Not to mention, living away from N and also caring for an infant.
Last year I felt like a foreigner forging my way independently. Of course N was there for our family but he also had the toll of starting over in a new job. This year I was reminded I was not alone in all of this and I think that has made some difference in my emotional state too.
This year, I was greeted by familiar faces and felt like we are growing on the good foundation that was set last year. Much less traumatic, much more peaceful.
That being said, the school year always feels daunting in August. We have nine more months of this. We have two daylight savings; we have Christmas, fall, and spring breaks; we have 100 days of school; we have PTA fundraisers and school spirit events. It’s a lot to think about. It’s a lot of items to cross off before the lazy days of summer beckon us again.
In the midst of this, Bea started pre-k this week too. She was so excited, as was I for her. Finally her chance to have something all for herself. She is always reaching to attain the same status of her sister. Often times that works in her favor, like learning how to swim two years earlier and other milestones.
No tears were shed for her. Not when she is just so eager.
There is a church that is next to N’s school and they have chronically shown up for us. When we moved into our house, they showed up with a team of volunteers to move in boxes and furniture, as well as food for everyone to eat. On big days at school, they man the parking lot, directing traffic, handing out water bottles on the hot days, and Starbucks coffee to parents.
Waking up at 5:50am to run and shower before getting three babies fed and dressed and packed up for the day makes me weary. But the volunteers at this church, often two generations ahead of me, smiling and serving, give me a little touch of fire from above, so to speak, to rekindle me along my way.
The school year routine has been revived, though my clumsy self always feels a few beats behind. But far better than a year ago, and with the notion of just a little leaning in and it could all be downhill from here.