For the first time since I was four years old, the end of August doesn't mean Back to School. I have mixed feelings about this, of course -- I am, after all, a mixed feelings type of girl. I generally have mixed feelings about everything that ever happens in life. But that's a topic for another day.
Back to School. New crayons and binders and lunchboxes and sneakers, and the smell of chalk, and seeing your friends, and meeting your new teacher, and (being the total nerd that I am) excitedly completing that first math homework of the year.
And then Back to School as a teacher. Preparing the classroom, photocopying a zillion and one course info sheets, planning to be a hard-@$$ but then seeing those kids all excited and nervous and high from summer fun and regressing to the old softie that I really am. Straightening the rows of desks just one more time until they're perfect, knowing full well that they'll be a cluttered disaster by the end of first period. Signing out textbooks, and making the kids love me by telling them they can leave the textbook at home because it's too darn heavy and I know they have enough to lug around already.
Okay, I have to admit that I'm getting more than a little misty-eyed right now. I want to go Back to School, too!! And then I think of my beautiful baby boy, napping upstairs by himself (miraculously), and I realize he's been asleep for over an hour now. This never happens! And it's 10:50 on a Tuesday and I'm sitting on my duff writing in my blog.
Yeah, Back to School is overrated.