The First Day of School

Summer vacation has officially come to an end and my 8-year-old daughter has headed back to school. She’s understandably nervous, but she also seems excited to meet new people. As she told me about the butterflies in her stomach this morning, I realized that I had them too. Every year, I probably get more anxiety than she does about starting a new school year.

I worry about her. Will she make new friends? Will the kids be nice to her? Will she be bullied? She is such a social child. And she has yet to learn that not everyone will be her friend. She cares a lot about what people think of her, as most kids do.

You wish you could protect your kids. But you can’t. I can’t keep her from the language she may hear, or the lessons she may learn that have nothing to do with education. As she grows older, she will learn about sex and drugs and God knows what else from her peers, without the warnings of her parents and a mom approved filter to shield her. I will have to trust that the way I am raising her will help her to make wise decisions and pick a good set of people to hang around with.

But I hope that this year she will start to develop a thicker skin. 3rd grade was about the time in my school career that I slowly stopped being so sensitive and obsessed with other people’s approval. If a kid wasn’t nice to me, well screw them! If a boy picked on me, I discovered that it wasn’t because he hated me. 9 times out of 10, it was because he had a crush on me. Boys are so strange.

She will start to develop real crushes that aren’t just untouchable celebrities on tv. She might even get a “boyfriend.” Not on my watch of course, but what happens in Vegas…I mean school, stays in school.

Last year, her friends’’ so-called boyfriends were oblivious to the fact that the girls considered them their boyfriends. “My bff has a new boyfriend!” she said. “Oh, really. What do you guys consider a boyfriend? Do they talk on the phone?” I asked. “No, I’m not sure that they’ve talked at all, but they are totally together!” If that’s the kind of boyfriend she gets this year, I’m ok with that.

I hope that she does well in her academics. I was a proud and unashamed nerd. Grades were extremely important to me. I always saw the bigger picture and thought about the briefcase and the jacket and pants business suit I wanted to wear when I grew up. No skirts or dresses for me, since I was a bit of a tomboy.

For my daughter, not so much. She lives for the moment. The learning part is often just the necessary evil to getting to do what she really craves: socializing.

Even so, she does well in most subjects. But it’s hard when you realize your children are not carbon copies of you. I have to stop myself from saying, “When I was your age…” She’s not me. She may not be as good in school or as into it as I was.  As long as she tries her best, I will have to learn to let her be…her.

Every August, I feel like I’m sending one of my most prized possessions out into some wild jungle. And I won’t be there to fight off the lions and tigers and bears. I don’t know if it’s because she’s an overly sensitive girl or if I will be just as protective of my boys.

I just want her to have a good experience. I had the luxury of going to school year after year with the same kids, in the same school. She’s had a few new schools in her short academic career due to our moves, so it’s like starting all over again every year. But she’s a tough kid. It’s her mom who needs to toughen up.

I thought I was done with school once I flipped my tassel from right to left at my college graduation. But it looks like emotionally and mentally I will be sucked back in every new school year for the next 18 years, when my youngest son graduates. But at least this year, my daughter is taking the bus. So, thankfully there will be no more thoughts and mumblings from the school pick-up line. Thank you God!