It's official. My children are both middle-schoolers as of yesterday. Here's a recap of the post-first-day-of-school-conversation:
Daughter (after first day of Middle School ever--walks in the door with a fake smile on her face, flops backpack on the floor and bursts into tears) Well! That was the worst first day of school EVER! Not only could I not get my locker open EVEN ONCE, everyone else could do it NO PROBLEM! What is the matter with me? Lockers HATE me. (Sob)
Me: Well, other than the locker situation, did everything else go okay?
Daughter: I guess. It was pretty boring.
Me: How is your binder working (that we spent hours picking out and more time organizing and accessorizing etc etc. to make sure that it was "unique" like she is)??
Daughter: Well. It's kind of heavy. You know Adam's notebook? The kind with the zipper all around yadda yadda? That's the kind everyone else has. (Adam is her brother, and probably has no idea what everyone else is using).
Me: But you always like to have your own style. That's what I love about you.
Daughter: I feel kind of like a sore thumb.
Me: Ah, yes. I do understand.
Daughter: (doubtfully) Uh huh.
And now for the post first day--Seasoned Eighth Grader Edition:
Son: (Walks in, flops back pack down and makes beeline for the fridge)
Me: How was the first day?
Son: Fine.
Me: So, do you like your classes?
Son: Some.
Me: Any neat teachers?
Son: A couple.
Me: So is it a cool feeling to be an eighth grader?
Son: Not really.
Me: But you're the top of the heap! The king of the school! Isn't it kind of, I don't know, satisfying?
Son: I don't know.
Me: Hmm. Well, next year you go to high school. Now that will be exciting.
Son: If you say so.
Me: Can you believe how old you're getting?
Son: Yeah, it's weird.
All I can think of is my son walking to the end of our driveway at age five with a huge construction paper apple pinned to his chest. Name and bus number written in bright marker. And smiling ear to ear because it was SCHOOL! And now? Well, the apple is deteriorating in his lunch bag. His smile is still intact, but mostly on the weekend.
And my daughter, who used to think nothing of wearing socks of two different colors because it's a STATEMENT, now can't bear to have a folder not in compliance with her peers. And, did I mention, her best friend is now wearing eyeliner in the sixth grade? I'm so not there yet.
When did my children's milestones become so filled with wist? I want to lock all the doors on my house and yell "Wait!"
2 comments:
I was talking about this with someone yesterday, how at a certain point in the parenting experience your kids' milestones take on a different feel. The moments marked along the way start to simultaneously recall the past milestones and hint at those to come. Does make for an emotional wallop sometimes. I like your lock-the-doors-and-holler-"Wait!" plan!
Issues with lockers change, but continue. Somehow those removable combination locks for high school gym lockers disappear with alarming frequency. Guess who had to bring his mom's BRIGHT PINK bike lock to secure his football locker today? It will stand out in the varsity locker room.
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