Back to School...Back to Sanity

Ah...there's nothing quite like the sound of a quiet house, empty of the non-stop activity of two boys.

We had a great summer; lots of fun activities, a couple of extended trips visiting family, and the occasional beach outing.....but I was starting to get worn out. About a week ago I realized that I had not been completely alone for over 2 months. Not even for a couple of hours.

It was starting to get to me. My nerves were beginning to fray as we drew closer to the end of the summer....but I made it without totally losing my sanity and without completely losing it with the kids.

Now, we get to return to the routines of work and school. We get to be away from each other for a while and come back together with new things for us to talk about.

Yay!

The Rationalist started his last year of elementary school and the Intuitive started 3rd grade today.

They are growing up so fast.

I'm happy I get to see them continuing to become their own people.

The Finish Line

I tossed and turned in the still darkness. 5:30 am, in neon green, glowing in the dark. I closed my eyes and tried for thirty more minutes. 6:00 am. Time to get up.

Shuffling through a drawer in the dark, looking for a pair of shorts and T-shirt, I move quietly. Having found what I'm looking for, I tiptoe out and close the door to the bedroom, dressing in the living room.

The dog squints at me curiously and then lays her head back down on her bed with a snort. It's too early, even for her.

I begin assembling the breakfast I've planned and start the coffee brewing, disturbing the quiet with the gurgling coffee maker. Rinse the blueberries. Combine the pancake mix. Heat the pan. Ponder the importance of the day all the while.

Little feet trip through the house to bathroom. The night light glimmers on a boy who used to be an infant. His tall, slender stature is evidence of the time that has since passed. Countless, diapers changed, fevers nursed, half-eaten meals and hundreds of story books measured and weighed in the growth of a boy...who used to be an infant.

He trips back into his room, closing the door behind him. It's not 6:30 am, yet.

6:30am arrives, heralded by the excited chirping of two boys dressing themselves, making their beds, and leaping from their rooms to the kitchen.

"I knew she was making pancakes!"

"Not just pancakes....blueberry pancakes!"

DH comes out of the bedroom and hugs me, while the boys pile on for good measure.

We eat breakfast, make lunches, chat about what the day will be like, and enjoy the brief morning.

At 7:30 am, we head out to finish the last leg of a seven-year race. We round the bend and reach the finish line. The first day of school for Intuitive Monkey, our youngest.

Empty Nest

I can never seem to have my emotions at the right time.

When The Rationalist started Kindergarten a couple of years ago, nary a teardrop was found in my eye. He gave us a hug, went into his class and we all walked home. Instead, two weeks before his first day of school, I went through two days of regret, worry and sadness. I wondered if I had prepared him enough for being part of a large group for six hours a day. I felt badly that I had always looked forward to his starting school, easing the work for me at home. I mourned the loss of his personality throughout the day. Mother guilt overwhelmed me.

After those couple of days, I was fine. We cheerily bought school supplies and uniforms for his big day. When it finally arrived, we smiled and congratulated him on becoming such a big boy while weeping parents ambled away from the school, red-faced and and sorrowful.

School starts in 17 days. Intuitive Monkey will finally be in Kindergarten and my nest will be empty. I am a wreck. Have I been a good enough mother? Could I have been better? Now that I am handing both of my children over to other people for a huge chunk of the day, will our relationship stay the same? What the heck am I supposed to do with my life now?

I'll be OK. We'll shop for school supplies and uniforms. We'll tell him he is such a big boy and congratulate him. We'll cheerily drop him off while first-time mothers are gulping down their silent sobs. We'll move into a new phase of life.

I'll be OK.