Friends, summer is coming to an end and I’m starting to feel the anxiety of heading back to school. With less than a week left to luxuriate in lazy mornings and Netflix shenanigans, I’m already panicking over lesson plans and class rosters and strategically designed bathroom breaks. What I wouldn’t give for another month! Or four.
But it seems like yesterday when I absolutely longed for this time of year, when I couldn’t wait for that beautiful yellow bus to show up on our street! As a stay-at-home mom, I reveled in the August return to routine and schedules and hours without my precious little angels. Our family operated far better when everyone had a place to be each day and limited access to Minecraft and “SpongeBob.” And by family, I mean me. My creativity is noteworthy, but even I struggled to fill June and July with enough exciting activities to keep my rugrats engaged. Story hour and zoo visits can only get you so far, and then you’re left eyeballing each other over a third round of Capri Suns and Goldfish wondering who’s going to crack first. Hint: It’s not them.
But now that once much-anticipated ice cream social represents the end of my vacation, too, my break from endless grading and teenage angst. When I see the new kindergartens practicing pickup, my gut reaction is no longer a fist pump but rather a middle finger. And when I hit Meijer, I must purposefully avoid the northwest quadrant lest the mechanical pencil and three-ring binder sales trigger my educator PTSD.
Alas, another school year approacheth, and so, too, does my anxiety.