School starts next week–woo hoo! NOT! There are those of you who are thrilled about this yearly milestone. I’m not you. I’ve never been you. My kids used to get excited when it came time to shop for the dreaded list of specific quantities and sizes of pencils and glue sticks. Not any more. I don’t blame them. The fun is over in a another week, and then we’ll all have to get up at the butt-crack of dawn.
Truly, my bad attitude is my own, and I don’t share it with my children. They’ve developed theirs all by themselves. The end of summer is tragic for everyone. Sleeping late, endless hours with friends, the pool, video games with hardly any limits. It’s just too much fun.
I remember my own summers and how much I dreaded going back to school as a teen. Besides the loss of freedom and warm weather, I understood that every single day I had to be accountable and responsible to my teachers. Keeping a schedule and attending to details was difficult for a right-brained creative-type like me. Of course, I thought everyone felt like I did. That was before ADD and such.
As I’ve become a full-grown adult/mother/keeper of everyone’s schedule, I realize it’s my personal struggle. I don’t like lists, schedules, homework, tests, projects times three–not to mention laundry, dinner and the rest of it. But guess what? It’s my struggle. I’m a full-grown woman who has a family and must deal with it. I don’t always conquer, but we manage to succeed. My kids are similar to me in many ways. But they have me to push and hold them accountable. Somehow I compensated on my own and did well in school.
Summer is our golden time when we don’t have to work quite so hard at everything. It’s fun and not so stressful. I only hope my kids don’t get that same sick, nervous feeling I did growing up when summer ended and it was time to face reality. Reality will hit full-time soon enough.
Right now, I have the same sick, nervous feeling as I face uniforms, school supply shopping, paperwork and all that comes with their school year beginning. I know I can handle it, but I can’t help but believe the roots of these emotions are a haunting from the end of childhood summers.
Have a great school year! Sorry our summer has to end!