Middle School. High School. How?!

Tonight, as we prepped for the first day of school, I paused and thought to myself, how the heck are we here already?

I'm not referring to summer being over. Because believe me, that felt long enough coming from someone who works from home most days and had an 11-year-old and a 14-year-old hanging around the house most days this summer.

I'm talking about this stage of life.

How did we get here so fast?

When my emotions get a little too big, I tend to need to word vomit them somewhere. Hence, this blog.

Back when the kids were babies, that meant writing here pretty much every week. Then it became monthly. Then occasionally. And now, apparently, this blog mostly gets dusted off when life gives me a lot of feelings, and I need somewhere to put them.

Which feels fitting, because tonight is definitely one of those nights.

Tomorrow is the first day of school, and both of our kiddos are starting new adventures that I'd go ahead and deem milestone years.

High school and middle school.

My own memories of middle school and high school are magical. Meeting new people. Finding your core group of friends, some of whom you somehow just know will be lifelong friendships. Figuring out who you are, what you like and, maybe more importantly, what you don't like.

It's a time to try new things. Make mistakes. Experience failures and letdowns. Butterflies and crushes.

There's the fun of getting your class schedule. Meeting up with friends before school. Walking the halls together. Hoping you know someone in your classes and, perhaps most importantly, praying you know someone with the same lunch.

I'm honestly tickled thinking about my kids heading into that phase of their own lives.

But there's also this little tinge of grief for the childhood we're leaving behind.

The days of elementary open houses. Field trips. PTO meetings. Bringing birthday treats. Them being excited, delighted even to have you walk them to the bus stop or through the front doors of school.

Is this grief because I'm a highly emotional person? Perhaps.

Is it because it feels like we blinked and we're already here? Absolutely.

Is it possible to be sad and ecstatic at the exact same time?

I think so.

I remember when our kids were just smooshy little babies and people would say, "Enjoy these days. They go so fast."

And I'd think, "Hey oldie, thanks for the cliché. I'm barely sleeping. This couldn't possibly go any slower."

And then suddenly you're sending them to high school and middle school.

And now I'm the one saying the exact same thing to coworkers who are starting their own families.

Classic.

Tonight, the kids picked out their first-day outfits and got their backpacks ready. Emmett practiced his locker combination and recited his schedule for approximately the 10th time.

And at one point, I had to step away.

The teeniest hint of their nervous energy sends me into my own anxious tizzy.

To be clear, I'm not actually anxious about anything specific for either of them. I know they'll be fine. They'll find their classes. They'll have lunch with friends. They'll meet new people. They'll figure things out. And they'll make it back home safely.

But the start of something new creates this excited, nervous energy in me that apparently radiates strongly enough for my kids to look at me and say, "Mom, are you good?"

And tonight, I didn't want them to carry my feelings into tomorrow. Because tomorrow isn't really about me mourning what's over. It's about them getting to find out what's next.

There will be new friends and old friends. Good days and crappy ones. Teachers they love. Classes they don't. Inside jokes I won't understand. Mistakes they'll hopefully learn from. Crushes they may or may not tell me about. Moments that feel enormous right now and someday become stories they'll laugh about.

And I get to have a front-row seat.

Maybe that's the strange part of parenting no one can really prepare you for. You spend so many years teaching them how to do things without you.

Tie their shoes. Pack their bags. Talk to the teacher. Find their way. Make good choices. Pick themselves back up.

And then one day... they do. Which is exactly what you wanted. And somehow it still gets you just a tiny bit.

So tomorrow I'll take the first-day pictures. I'll probably ask too many questions. I'll try very hard to act cool. And I'll watch my middle schooler and high schooler walk into this next chapter of their lives.

Excited for them.

Proud of them.

A little nostalgic for everything that got us here.

And extremely aware that apparently I've officially become the oldie telling people, "Enjoy it. It goes so fast." Classic.

And whether your kids started two weeks ago, last week, or they're heading out the door tomorrow like mine, I'm sending all the good vibes. To the kids. To the parents. To the teachers and school staff who are jumping into a new year.

New beginnings are exciting and weird and nerve-racking and fun.

Cheers to a good year. And to all of us parents attempting to act normal while they grow up.