Friday, September 3, 2010
The Winds of Change
Think about the person you know in the world who has the hardest time dealing with change.
Multiply that times 10.
You've got me.
I've never done well with change. It doesn't matter if it's good change or bad change. My worst fear when I was a little girl was that I'd have to move. I cried when I graduated from high school. My first semester of college was hard. I couldn't eat much for a few weeks when Adam and I started dating. I didn't eat more than a few bites the first week we were married. And I was happy to be married, just unsettled.
Motherhood was a very ungraceful adjustment for me.
I've been desolate each and every time we've moved.
I resent that my kids don't fit into little kid sizes any more.
My sisters know all of this about me. They've each asked me in the last week, "How are you?" We all know it's coming. I think they're ready, with their headsets, so that when I completely melt down, they'll at least be able to fold laundry and cook dinner while they persuade me that life will go on.
There's an undercurrent of anxiety in my days. (And unfortunately, now I can eat, I just can't sleep...it could have been a clever diet plan!) My stomach clenches when I realize how many days until school starts.
Why am I even admitting this? Did you need further proof that I am slightly unhinged?
Yesterday was a Meet and Greet and Janet and Freja, our intrepid guides, took Miss Emma and me to school to meet and greet her teacher. She seems like a very nice lady. It seems like a great classroom. Emma was happily chatting with her friends.
It's all going to be good.
As I was leaving, I looked around at the vibrant energy of the place. Excited kids with backpacks, smiling teachers. I turned to Janet and said, "I love schools."
When I was a school teacher (at a school as opposed to in my upstairs school room), I sometimes felt like I was getting away with something. They were paying me to do something thoroughly enjoyable. (Well, they weren't paying me much.)
Maybe that little joyous reminding glimpse of schools was indeed a tender mercy. Next week is going to be Hard. Someday sending Mark will be (heaven help me) Hard. When they leave home will be I-can't-even-think-about-it Hard.
But I love schools. I love teaching in schools too.
My life won't end. Even if the landscape of my days changes, there will be new adventures. New frontiers.
I might (might) survive.