Last night, I dreamt that I was late. As usual. Only this time, I had left one of my children at a library camp, which had ended half an hour earlier, and I was still an hour away and attempting to pick up the second child from… somewhere weird. But the main thing is that I was stressed and panicked and really, really angry with myself for not being where I was supposed to be.

I also dreamed that Harper Lee tried out for several academic clubs and was devastated to learn that she did not make the math team but was accepted as a member of the vegetarian meal planning team.

School starts tomorrow. Can you tell?

I’m just a little bit anxious. Thankfully, I went back to work three weeks ago, which really ticked me off at the time. I mean, my kids had nearly a month of extra summer. Now, however, I’m happy that I settled back into a routine before we started getting them settled back into theirs.

Harper Lee begins middle school this year. And Isaac is entering third grade. If you live in NC, you know what that means. It’s going to be a time of big transitions– my favorite thing in the whole world. (That sound you hear is Rob laughing hysterically.)

I’m trying really hard to go with the flow. (I realize that trying really hard is sort of the antithesis of going with the flow, but we do what we can.) And I think I’m doing pretty well—nightmares aside. It’s a new phase for us, particularly for me. I feel a little weepy that we are moving from little kid phase into–scary Psycho music in the background–MIDDLE SCHOOL. For me, middle school was sort of like… well, let’s just say it—hell. I hated every bloody moment of middle school. If I don’t make it to heaven, I’m pretty sure I will end up roaming the halls of A.C. Reynolds Middle School. If I’m really bad—like I end up being a psycho killer or something—I’ll probably be at that same school, except on a Friday night at a middle school dance.

It will be different for Harper Lee. She is an entirely different kid. And I admire her immensely. I even helped her streak her hair blue the other day. She was worried that her teachers might get a bad first impression and think she is a “rebellious street kid,” but I assured her that they would probably not think that. I like that she is comfortable being exactly who she is. I hope that she stays that way. Let’s face it—school isn’t always the place where being who you are is OK.

So it is with more than a little trepidation that I send my children off to school each year.

But I’m going with the flow here…

And it’s all good.

As our last week of summer wrapped up, Harper Lee and I volunteered on Saturday at the Continental Divide Trail Race that our friends, Jason and Alison, put on every year. We always look forward to running the finish line and handing out the awards. This year Harper Lee got to take photographs of the runners as they raced up crazy, mountain goat trails, and she helped with first aid. There was a bit of excitement this year when a nest of yellow jackets wreaked havoc at one point along the course, but everyone came out of it, in the end, just fine. Plus, Alison made quesadillas post-race, and I met some new and interesting friends.

CDTR startThat’s one thing that trail racing is sure to offer—new, and VERY interesting, friends, one of the many reasons I love it.

So, now the house is quiet. Everyone is tucked in early. The backpacks are packed. The lunchboxes are lined up and waiting on the kitchen counter. The multiple information forms are filled out and signed. The coffee is in the maker and ready to brew.

And I am finally sitting down and taking it in– this new phase that is about to begin.

What if tomorrow is the beginning of something wonderful?

 Harper- CDTR

 

 

 

 

 

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