Today's Quote: "The only normal people are the ones you don't know very well." — Joe Ancis
I am deep in the throes of an identity crisis. Don't be alarmed. This happens to me every year at about this time. It has something to do with watching another summer come to an end and wondering why the past few months were not as carefree and unstructured as I imagined they would be. Why didn't I picnic in the park with the kids? What about all those leisurely days I thought we'd spend by the pool? It also has to do with the sense of impending doom (and gloom) I always feel in anticipation of the start of a new school year with all of its imposed rules and regulations. Although I am generally perceived as an easy-going, go with the flow kind of person (and in many ways I am), the truth is that when it comes to how I spend my time, I really resent the fact that between the months of September and June my schedule is largely determined by the public school system. Sometimes I can see why people choose to home school their children. (Of course, I myself will never opt to do that as I entirely lack the patience to do so.)
And so I find myself feeling desperate to find meaning in my existence. Have I ever accomplished anything of real value? Am I supposed to? Does it matter? Is everybody supposed to have a gift to share with the world or is that just media hype? Am I the best mother I can be? The best wife? Daughter? Friend? Is good enough ever really enough? Does the past matter as much as I suspect it does, or is the future more important? Or should I simply make an effort to be mindfully present in the here and now? And what is truth? Because one thing I know for sure is that what I perceive as real and true is not necessarily what others perceive as real and true, even those closest to me. (Honestly, if I think about that too much I start to feel a bit overwhelmed and sick to my stomach, so that particular question never receives too much of my time or attention. Although perhaps it should. Or not. Who knows.) Here's another question I've yet to answer. Why is it that there are people out there whom I miss terribly and long to connect with, yet I seldom initiate such connections? I suspect this has to do with my own insecurity (what if they have no desire to connect with me?? oh, the shame!)
Moving on . . .
Jack starts school a week from tomorrow. He'll be in seventh grade! Although he likes to talk about how much he dislikes his school, he ran for and was elected to the Student Senate, which leads me to believe he must care, at least a little bit, about school. He tells me that being so unhappy with so many aspects of the school is a good thing for a senator, because it will motivate him to work hard for change. I guess that makes some sense. Mostly I just want him to work up to his potential and be happy. The rest is frosting.
Chloe starts school the day after Labor Day. Unlike Jack, Chloe seldom has anything negative to say about her school, other than the fact that she dislikes having to complete a summer math packet. She loves summer, of course, but she also enjoys being at school with friends everyday. She's the kind of kid who always thinks her teacher is the greatest thing since sliced bread. Every year I have to get used to her calling me by a teacher's name. She does this not on purpose, but simply out of habit. For a year I learned to answer to "Mrs. Leslie", the next year "Mrs. Farina", and this past year it was "Mrs. Brown." I don't mind, of course. It's actually kind of sweet. (However, it was a tad annoying in first grade when she would frequently eat lunch with her extremely fit and health-conscious teacher and then come home and suggest that I might want to consider eating yogurt and a pear for lunch everyday.)
Casey will start school at the end of September -- if he's potty trained, that is. (For the record, the potty training is going really well, except for the pooping. He'll pee in the potty without a problem. In fact, he never has an accident. But when it comes to poop, it's right in the undies.) So I'm crossing my fingers and hoping for the best. He's registered for a brand new Montessori School for kids ages three -twelve. It's in Hartford, and unlike Jack's school, this one does not provide transportation, which means I'll be driving him there and back everyday. (I'm hoping gas prices continue to decrease.) I've ordered his uniforms -- little tiny navy blue polo shirts and khaki pants, which I searched high and low to find in a size 3T with elastic waist to accommodate his newly acquired potty skills. ( I found them at Target.com, by the way. They only carry them on-line, not in the actual stores.) The thing is, Casey will only go to school in the mornings, from 8:30 - 11:30, which doesn't leave me with sufficient time to go to the gym. (Because my gym happens to be miles and miles and miles away from Casey's school.) Guess I'm going to have to work on figuring this out. But not now, as Jack is hanging over my shoulder purposely annoying me so that I will finish up. And guess what? He won.
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