My Saturday was spent searching for the perfect shoes. Well, “was spent” is a bit of an exaggeration because she, like her mama, hates shopping.
She’s an “one and done” kinda shopper; she has a particular taste but grabs the first thing she can find that fits and convinces herself that she loves it, just like her mama.
The dress was bought the other day in the same way: See it. Like it. Try it. Buy it. Bye.
It’s a big deal. And so is the occasion. My baby gets promoted to high school this week. I think I would’ve been a bit sad about it if I hadn’t spent countless hours praying for this school year to end quickly so we could slam the door shut on this chapter. The bittersweetness will kick in later, I’m sure, but for now? For now, I’m overwhelmingly glad that it’s the official start of summer vacation.
I have enjoyed summer break in the past few years because it meant a little less responsibility. Being the only adult in charge of absolutely everything is exhausting, so loose schedules were a gift. My job allowed for the kids to travel with me most times, as well, so I didn’t have to worry about them, plus we are always down for heading to new places. We all know that none of that was possible last year. And then the school daze of COVID-19 started.
In-person, hybrid, remote, full remote, virtual … it was a nightmare. I watched my kids struggle with missing their friends and missing their activities. I struggled with working full-time at home while battling over the wifi bandwidth, the teenage drama, the noise, and my unwanted classroom aide gig. I felt as if things had started out beautifully, and I was optimistic to a fault. Then it started to rain and the slope I was standing on became slippery, and I could feel myself losing my footing.
A new school due to our move meant that relationships couldn’t be formed with the back and forth of in-person and remote. Live teaching hadn’t become a thing yet, and it was hard to be the new kid in class while attending a homeschool. Band and chorus were moved to remote, and it was hard to march and play percussion without being allowed to do band.
And COVID-19? Well, she’s relentless and refused to get out of my way when I started to climb back up. The worst part was that I had two kids and a mother holding onto my shirt tail, needing me to keep climbing and pulling them along with me. It was brutal. And so, instead of sliding backward or using my energy to push forward, I simply sat down. People who knew what was going on were very reassuring and kept telling me that most of us were doing our best, but I couldn’t accept that I couldn’t keep up.
Spring was a blur. I remember the kids’ birthdays in March but vaguely remember Easter. Something had snapped in me, and I suddenly became the person who told a school employee that maybe they shouldn’t have waited until the day grades closed to call me if holding kids accountable was solely my job. For the first time in my life as a parent, I wanted a do-over – and a tag team partner – because I didn’t know what to do to make grades right, to get my kids engaged again, or to make myself pretend that grades were the most important thing in my kids’ world. I started counting down the days.
I was the parent who used to do end-of-the-year gifts for the teachers. I used to take time to discuss what they’d like with my kids and then find a way to craft something that added to the story, but not this year. This year, I wanted it to end. I became the type of parent that was the complete opposite of the one I started out as. I had so much to handle outside of the school stuff that I had nothing left to give to equations and questions about DNA.
So, when my youngest turned in her Chromebook last week and my oldest announced that Tuesday was her last day, I nearly wept. We’ve made it. And I know we’ve made it because I have no new voicemails and the promotion tickets in my hand.
I’m looking forward to a summer that will allow us to reset our brains. I’m looking forward to sun and flowers and bonfires, maybe some sand between our toes before we have to go back. All I know is that school is almost out, and my baby needs a new pair of shoes to walk across the gym.
We made it, y’all!
Onward,
Amy Jo
