As a girl, I looked forward to the beginning of a new school year with delightful anticipation. OK ,OK I admit it. I was ecstatic at the start of school. I loved new notebooks and the smell of freshly sharpened pencils with perfect pink erasers on top! I remember how excited I was when my mother handed me the Sears catalog and told me to pick out any outfit that I wanted. ( If you remember the Sears catalog in the 70’s you may remember that it was equal in size to today’s September issue of VOGUE magazine. ) I remember being disappointed when my mother said it would be too hot outside to wear those burgundy LEVI corduroys freshly picked from The Gap.
In elementary school, September mornings meant early stops at neighbors’ front doors to pick them up for school, and sliding into their warm front halls to escape the chill in the air. I must have been an early bird then. (times have changed.) When all the neighborhood kids were gathered, we trekked through the woods on a well-worn path to our school, perched and waiting for us at the top of Huckleberry Hill. In junior high, September changed a bit. It meant bus stops and brisk walks to see who would be there first. I’ll bet you remember your bus stop. That place where (after six hours of sitting at a desk behaving,) the doors opened to the outside world and freedom. I would skip happily around the bend of Trickett Road toward my house, taking it all in. The sunshine, the fresh air – Oh, and yes…I almost forgot the icing on the cake! September is my birthday month. I was always one of the first in my class to celebrate a birthday, and my mother always let me throw a great party.
Ahhh. September then.
September. I admit it. The word alone scares me. September has become the month when I feel like I am holding on tightly to the sides of a chair as someone pushes me along faster and faster. Out. Of. Control. When did September morph into this crazy monster? I am pretty sure it happened around the time my own children started their school years. I was happy in my cocoon of blissful ignorance as to the price of school supplies, and the number of trips a parent really has to make to STAPLES to get all the required materials. Each Labor Day brings with it the promise of new bus stops, new car pools, new teachers, and new subjects. There are new sports, new teams, new coaches, and a lot of miles put on your car transporting kids back and forth. ( insert 3 calming breaths here.) Those carefree September afternoons of my youth are almost unfathomable to me at this time of my life. Therefore…the September Mourn sets in.
My advice to moms and dads that feel at all like me? – One day at a time. – That and a blackboard painted on your kitchen wall labeled with all the week’s activities. It helps. (just forget to label your birthday like I do… that way it’s kind of like it doesn’t happen!)
My wish in September is that when the bus lets my little ones of at the end of the street and they are walking home to see me, they are as happy to be there as I was at their age. You can’t beat that.
Hey! Friday’s looking pretty good so far!