By Linda Sharp
This morning marked another of life's little milestones.
School started.
And while that, in itself, is not momentous - wait, scratch that - it IS momentous to a parent like me who has spent the past couple weeks salivating as I marked each day off the calendar, desperate to reclaim a tad of my sanity and restore some semblance of routine to my waking hours.
OK, fine. I admit it. After dropping off the last child, I damn near resembled a Senekot ad - jumping into the air, pumping my fist with 'I feel good" glory - the central block of my day is no longer constipated with kids fighting over the last popsicle or slice of pizza, wanting to go to the mall/pool/movie, hosting the zillion friends they seem to attract like lint, and buying more popsicles and pizza.
But back to the "momentous" portion...
This school year finds that I now have TWO daughters in high school, and my baby - no longer my baby, I suppose - is in middle school.
And while one could marvel at the whole David Blaineness of this feat - after all, I have not gotten any older, they have - I am basking in the glow of "I-think-we're-doing-a-good-job-at-raising-them".
I present the following evidence:
1. Twas the night before a new school year, and all through my house, not a creature was nervous, not even my spouse (who HATES that he now has TWO daughters attending school with SENIOR boys)
The girls spent the evening showering, Nairing, assembling the perfect first-day-o'-school outfits (even the youngest whose biggest fashion consideration is usually which T-shirt to wear each day), and excitedly chatting to friends on their phones.
This morning, not a nerve to be seen. If anything, they paced, wishing the clock would move forward faster so they could get to the schools.
As a parent, these are satisfying signs indeed. It reflects self assuredness, confidence, inner strength.
(Fine - it also reflects a desire to get to school and check out the new crop of boys and the longer hair they will be sporting thanks to Zac Efron and that damned High School Musical 2.)
2. Sibling chivalry NOT rivalry.
Culley is now a sophomore - familiar with her school which truly resembles a mutant sea creature - tentacles and tumors sprouting here and there, appendaged hallways that all look alike, a numbering process that somehow puts the 400s right next to the 700s - and while 10th graders don't yet 'rule the school', they are no longer Fish either.
Kendall is the incoming Freshman. To new eyes, that building is daunting. And the hallways between classes resemble a sardine can - there are over 2,000 students commuting from one class to the next.
Culley has not only been coaching Kendall about what to expect, she took her to the high school last Friday and walked her schedule with her so she has a better grasp of where rooms are, and most importantly, Culley showed her little known shortcuts she discovered during her own first year.
This morning they walked in together, and even though they can sibling catfight with the best of them, I have no doubt Culley will be watching out for her kid sister daily.
As for Kendall? She may front bravado all she wants, but inside I know she knows exactly how lucky she is to have Culley as her sister. In one year, Culley has paved quite an in-road and there are far worse things than being related to one of the nicest, hottest (I'm quoting male sources here), teacher-liked kids in school.
And as for our youngest? Well, she and Kendall don't exactly spare one another's feelings under this roof. They are fierce rivals - they both play soccer, so oneupmanship rules - but in all other ways, could not be more different if they tried.
They do love each other just as fiercely, however, and Kendall has had Carson's back in the weeks leading up to this day - giving her the lowdown on the teachers, school layout, principal, etc, as she passes the torch for the school she is leaving down to her little sister.
3. Not a backward glance.
For me, this has always been the biggest indicator that Rudy and I are doing something right. From the day Culley first entered preschool when she was two, independence has been the watchword. As dramatic, weepy scenes played out all around us, Culley walked bravely into her future and her new classroom with barely a wave over her shoulder.
Sorry Mom, Dad - frontiers to cover, you can leave now.
That is how they all left me this morning. And it again made me realize that the stupid platitude I made up years ago, and spout regularly, must not only have taken root in their minds, but is flowering in their souls:
The horizon is a wonderful place - that is where all things are possible.
And as much as I am enjoying this newly reclaimed peace - the only sound in the house is the tinkle of Lola's collar bell, and my fingers on the keyboard (ok, yes, CNN is on in the background too - shut up, I'm addicted and you know this) - a part of me cannot wait to see them this afternoon and hear all about what they have found on their new horizons.
Unsharpened #2 pencils and the excitement of new possibilities. Does it really get much better than this?




Keep up the good work.
Posted by: Kerda | October 28, 2008 at 07:18 AM
Linda,
Hey there you :) Enjoy the peace and quiet (and yes, yes, we all know about you and CNN)...Rudy can now sneak home for lunch - just the two of you ;) Now get back to writing mamawriter!
~pj
Posted by: Paula | August 27, 2007 at 01:47 PM