It’s back to school time. We are reacquainting ourselves with early mornings and old routines. Will this year be better, different, worse? Probably all of those things. It’s hard to know how the road from September to June will pan out. There will be bumps but hopefully nothing too jarring.
Our younger son’s journey has started out a bit rough. There are two classes in his grade. His pals are in one class with a young new teacher all shiny and bright. He is in the other. His only impression of his current teacher is from her lunchroom duty last year. I don’t care how lovely you are, lunchroom duty doesn’t look good on anyone. Personally, I think she is great and I am happy that he has her. This is just a hill to climb unlike the mountain he climbed last year as he adjusted to an entirely new school. He’ll survive.
I’m awaiting our older son’s return as I write this. He has the teacher he wanted but will have a classroom full of new faces as a result of redistricting that took place over the summer. He won’t have the comfort that comes with five years of familiarity but he will have a leg up next year when all the schools blend into one middle school. He’ll survive.
Last night on the eve of the first day of school, I thought to myself, is school really starting tomorrow? It seemed like just an ordinary night. Am I forgetting something? Why is this no big deal? Maybe because I’ve done this before and I’ve survived.