Ten years until I graduate.
My dad used to say that the start of a new school year was his favorite time of year. It meant crisp yellow pencils, a bright pink eraser. A fresh start.
I do recognize the importance of cycles, their ability to restart or refresh us.
But I feel like I’ve been in school f o r e v e r.
Thirteen years of my own. Four years of college. Eight years of teaching. Then herding, leading, prodding my own for . . . fifteen?
There was a time when the sight of a school bus would spark anxiety in me. On weekends away from the classroom already too short, I needed no reminder of that place that triggered so much in me. And perhaps it is residual tension from those teaching years that bubbles up as I cycle through the start of each new year with my own children.
But I feel like a prisoner in this academic calendar.
Last year I had a student in every educational environment.
Elementary, Middle, High School, and College.
All represented.
It was a cool factoid. A sign of our wide-ranging and crazy family. I named the blog post I never wrote: All Ages and Stages.
Now as I anticipate walking another child through the college gauntlet, when I don’t even feel I’ve recovered from the last go-round, I’m tired.
I will support the homework and the lunch-making, the pick-ups and drop-offs, the reminders and subsequent nagging, the atta-boys and better-luck-next-times.
But I look forward to the day I finally graduate.
Yes, I am singing Third Eye Blind as I type the title . . .
Chopping Potatoes 
wow! Ages and stages, I like that! but I think your in for another long time yet!
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Oh, yes, ages and stages is right.
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Isn’t it funny/not remotely funny how we get to a place where we think we can sketch out the future, then life yells, “Syke!” (Don’t care if I’m aging myself with that.)
As grateful as we are for many of these curveballs, they do make for tiredness, exhaustion, and overwhelming feelings, especially if we struggle with mental wellness. (That is the way the Irish term it, and for my least favorite malady it is my favorite descriptor thus far.)
Breathe in, breathe out. Remember that everything is temporary if you give it enough time. You are strong and beautiful in a way I marvel at, Jennifer. In the very frequent moments I am cynical and distrustful, in all the years I have “known” you, I have always known this to be true. Though I have never so much as heard you speak on the phone, I feel it in my bones. And these old Irish bones, they never lie.
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Luckily, by saying “syke” to ME, you do not age yourself! Ha! Also, life, God, the universe, Murphy (speaking of Irish ways of being) is always laughing at me and my machinations!
“Everything is temporary if you give it enough time” may be proving to be the most important lesson I am continuing to learn. Also, how very wonderful and supportive and real you are – even if we’ve never met IRL 🙂
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