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Archive for July 30th, 2007

I am distracted today. 

Yesterday was the open house at Spawn’s school, the one where everybody converges to find out what classes they’re in and what teachers they’ll have.  So we went, and Spawn got the teacher I had hoped for, and tomorrow night my husband and I will go back to the school for a little pep talk by the principal and a parents’ meeting with the teacher, in which she will explain just how first grade works to those of us who are more than 30 years removed from the experience. 

I made Spawn try on uniforms last night to see what still fit and what needed to be replaced.  Now I have to get to the uniform supplier sometime between now and Friday morning to get something for the kid to wear.  And then I have to buy shoes, since the school does not allow sandals.  And the backpack I’ve ordered for Spawn should arrive today.  The supplies are all marked with Spawn’s name and in a sack waiting to be taken to school. 

I’m trying to be ready for this but the fact is, I’m not. 

And I don’t really think it has anything to do with the fact that my baby is going to be a first grader.  We’ve done preschool.  We did full day kindergarten.  School, as a routine, isn’t shaking me up too much. 

Summer’s over. 

Spring is by far my favorite season, with the coming of the warmer days and the flowers starting to bloom, and the promise of summer to come.  I love the potential of spring. 

But summer is a shift in attitude.  A change in thinking.  A relaxation of schedules and standards.  Long, sunny days with no agenda.  Even though I don’t get a summer vacation I get a summer frame of mind and that’s just about as good. 

I woke up one morning last week and realized that the chorus of birds was gone.  That’s a sure sign of fall coming. 

And I can’t really put my finger on it, really, why the end of summer depresses the hell out of me. But it does.  And to start school so damned early just pushes the season along too much. 

I know plenty of people who love fall, and even a few cracked pots who claim to love winter.  They make no sense to me. 

Right now I have the feeling of trying to hold back the ocean with a rake. 

— Mox

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