Back to School

As Anabel, Wyatt and Emma stepped on the school bus this morning, I choked back my tears.  Our dream year is officially over.  Sitting at the computer, completely free of distractions, I feel despondent.  And incredulous... I can't believe I am feeling this way.  How many times last year did I think how much easier it would be to let someone else shoulder the weight of the responsibility of educating my kids? But now that it is here, I am filled with sadness.  I see where Anabel gets it- I don't transition well.

Maybe I am conflicted because this is the first time they have gone to school without me.  As a mom and a teacher, I had the luxury of seeing the kids during their school day.  I could stroll into the lunchroom for an encouraging smile or wave.  I could casually glance in their classroom doors and get a glimpse into their school worlds.   When Anabel was in first grade, I remember spotting her standing in line after lunch.  She was whispering and giggling with a friend, and then, turned to quietly follow her teacher.   A boy sauntered up in front of her, but she tapped him on the shoulder and confidently pointed to the back of the line.  Head down, he returned to his spot.  It was a beautiful site to see.  Today, I am home and ignorant to it all.

Emma-confident with her new glasses

I know this is part of the growing up and letting go phase of raising kids.  Parents must transition with their kids to foster healthy relationships.  I've taken all the child development classes and read all the books.  My kids are 13, 11 and 9- not babies anymore.  They were thrilled to be returning to regular school- complete with the sleepless anticipation of the night before the first day.  They are transitioning well.  Why am I such a basket case?