T'was the Night Before School Starts

I thought for a moment this post would be a poem, but ain't nobody got time for that. Because at some point I FORGOT I HAVE TWO KIDS TO BUY SCHOOL SUPPLIES FOR AND DIDN'T BUY TWO OF EVERYTHING so I have to go out today and get more crayons and glue sticks. For school. WHICH STARTS TOMORROW. For which I have all the I can't evens.

I need to share with someone besides my poor husband that I am on the BIGGEST STRUGGLE BUS with school starting.

School is such a monkey on my back. I like to go do what I want when I want, and I just don't get to these 9 months of the year anymore. People talk about all our summer adventures - but it's out of necessity. School gets in the way of our fun.

And making lunches makes me want to die. Sure, I'd love to lovingly prepare a FOURTH meal of the day. Oh I can tell myself I'll prep one for myself and for Cubby, but I won't. Which means two separate lunch prep sessions. Which means four meals a day. Death.

Also, listen, I am not the best mom. I have seriously had conversations about how I relate to Betty Draper as a mother, so don't misunderstand - but I kind of hate the idea of this relative stranger spending all this time with my kids. When I think back and view this from a students perspective, I can remember feeling like I knew my teachers well - especially in HS and College, but now from a parents POV I feel like I know NOTHING about these folks who get 8 hours a day to steer my children into the future. It's so weird and frankly, alarming. (Please do not send me your home school suggestions, people.)

I went to the same school from K - 12, with the same +\- 45 kids, so we very often had the same teachers year after year. While my children have been lucky enough to live here for the last nearly 4 years (meaning G will have completed - at least - Pre-K through 2nd grade here -- and incredible blessing in our lifestyle) he still had no idea who his teacher was when I told him her name. And then was shy acting when he met her BECAUSE SHE'S A STRANGER.

This is so weird to me, people.

Also, I hate getting up early to rush them around to get their crap together. Because no matter how early we get up, there's always rushing.

And I hate the thought that Piper is going to spill her lunch tray/water/everything all over herself and get laughed at.

And I hate that Grant feels like he gets bullied - though I don't think he really does, he feels it and that's something.

AND I HATE READING LOGS.

And I hate not having quiet time with my big kids while Nash naps. Even if we're just laying on the couch watching a movie together.

BUT

I am grateful for these people who feel called to teach our Little's (because it sounds like HELL to me), and I am grateful that we live on an Army base and if anyone on staff had so much as a speeding ticket, I am sure they had to fill out a 5 page form about it and have their backgrounds re-checked.

And G has at least one friend in his class, sitting right in the adjacent desk.

And P has a few familiar faces in her class too; and from what I've heard, an infinitely patient teacher.

And this means I get to do whatever I want while Nash naps. So that's something.

And I hope they know, that even if their mother - perhaps, alarmingly - identifies with Betty Draper - she still loves them enough to cry sad tears when she drops them off for the first day of school each year because of all she's going to miss out on in those 8 hours a day.