One week from tomorrow, the school year madness will begin. We'll go back to the struggle of getting the girls ready for school before the sun comes up. Back to "Hurry up!!" every two minutes while they take their sweet time eating breakfast. Back to "Brush your teeth!"... "No, seriously, I meant ALL of your teeth."... "Do you need me to come and brush them for you? No? Then JUST DO IT!!". Sound fun? I can hardly wait *insert my patented sarcasm here.
The difference this year is that all three of the girls will be in school. As a matter of fact, they'll be in three different schools for the first time. Middle School, Elementary & Preschool. My hands are shaking just typing that.
Sofia lucked out in the fact that she starts Middle School the same year that Maya leaves me for the first time. If I could focus on my trepidation of her being in school with 7th and 8th graders, we would be having talks about it every day. About how she needs to avoid them like the plague. About how they're stupid and evil and she should never listen to anything they say. About how much I will love her when she gets to that age; but, until then, Middle Schoolers are our sworn enemy. I don't think they should put ten year olds in with fourteen year olds. They're not ready to be initiated into that step of life. From what I hear, Middle School now is like High School was when I was a kid. If that's true, this knot in my stomach is well deserved. Seriously, neither of us is prepared for this step.
Eva will be in the Elementary School by herself this year. And, while she hardly ever saw Sofia anyway, she's a little concerned about it. My fingers are blue from being crossed so hard in hopes that she opens up a little bit this year. We found out, however, that her friend (in truth, her only real friend) is in her class this time. I definitely felt my shoulders relax a little when we learned that. Honestly, I think this is the first time Eva will ever really feel the "middle child syndrome". Her 2nd grade year is truly being lost between her sisters' current school years.
Which leads me to Maya's first day at Preschool. Sigh. Next Wednesday, I am expected to show up with my baby and then leave her there. For three whole hours. I don't know about all of that. This will be the last "first day of preschool" I'll have to live through, and I can't imagine surviving it. When Sofia started, I was a MESS. In fact I pocket-dialed the preschool (because, of course, I had made it the top number in my cell phone) while I had a complete wailing breakdown in the parking lot. Once the call got cut off, the school called the number back (they didn't know who it was) and asked if there was an emergency and should they call the police? Yes, there was an emergency! I had left my three year old with complete strangers! What kind of mother was I? Obviously, we both survived it. When Eva started, it was a different kind of trauma. She, of course, wouldn't speak a word. She clung to my hand and pleaded to me with her giant eyes not to leave her. So, I stood there with her for as long as I could. Eventually, the teachers were able to walk her to the other side of the room. Still staring at me with her big brown eyes, I backed out very slowly. And sobbed all the way home, clutching the little handprint the school had suggested we make for each other. Again, we both survived it. Now, it's Maya's turn. I'll walk her in to the school at 8:00 next Wednesday morning. Though, to be honest, it's only because I will have already paid an enormous amount of money in tuition. Once I pay for something, I have to go through with it. So, her and I will slowly make our way into the big colorful room. She'll have on her super cute new backpack and a new dress. I'll have a wad of tissues in the pocket of my sweatpants. She'll hold my hand. Then, if I am right, she'll squirm from my grasp and join the other kids on the carpet squares. I don't think she'll cry or plead or even notice when I leave. She's a heartbreaker like that. I, on the other hand, will sob, beg, and make a complete fool out of myself. Normally, I pride myself on being very stoic and private about my feelings. This goes right out the window on the first day of school. The janitor will have to scrape me off of the floor, and I feel no shame in that.
I've been (half-) joking about how excited I am for school to start since the second day of summer break. Now, it's almost here, and I'm not ready. Not ready for the morning chaos. Not ready for the homework chaos. Not ready for Middle School. Not ready for Preschool. Not ready to admit that this is the next step toward these girls growing up. I'm just not ready.
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