It started with an email I received from my oldest son’s principal last month. My son is in 8th grade. Middle school. I’ve had two years to accept the fact that my oldest child is already in middle school. It’s finally starting to sink in.
The email was to notify me of a meeting on February 1 at the high school for incoming 9th graders. I read the words, put the meeting on my calendar, and pretended they were referring to some other child. But then February 1st arrived. I drove to the high school. There were some kids standing on the front steps directing parents where to go. They looked so big compared to my son. Yes – I know my son is 6’3” and 185 lbs, but when I look at him, I still see my one year old toddling around. I must have looked like a deer in headlights.
photo credit: Conor Keller | fortysixtyphoto.com via photo pin cc
I sat down in the auditorium with the other parents and waited for the meeting to begin. One by one, people got up and talked about schedules, activities, school climate... I think. To be honest, it was hard to hear anything other than the voice in my head. (Please tell me I'm not the only one.) The voice kept saying: “I’m sitting in the high school. I’m sitting in the high school listening to people talk about courses my son will take next year. My son who will be in high school. My son will be in high school next year.”
Huh? What? How?