Tomorrow is it - the day Darby has to set foot into middle school. She will meet her home room teacher, walk the school, and hopefully get her locker assignment. Darby's school will not give her a schedule until the first day, when there are no parents around to check it and schedule appointments with the counselor because it is all screwed up. Convenient, don't you think?
Darby is not too excited about school this year, mostly because everyone who greets her and asks about school follows their question with this statement: "Middle school? Oh, I'm sorry...". FYI, people, you are making it harder on my girl and saying you are sorry means nothing to someone who has to face middle school for three years.
My anxiety is less about her and more about me. I have a child old enough to be out of elementary school, old enough to wear a ladies size 9 shoe, old enough to have thoughts and actions I cannot control, and she is entering an independent environment where the culture does not want parent involvement, parent input, and parent guidance. The whole system is structured anti-parent and that is freaking me out. What is a helicopter mom supposed to do with these constraints?
I am reminding myself that I will have an opportunity to meet her teachers next week, but that may be a little too little, a little too late. I am preparing for the fact that her schedule will be dysfunctional. Darby will not be able to make it to some class on time, will miss her bus, and then will be the only kid in middle school without a cell phone and cannot call her mom for a ride. But I cannot project my fears on her, because Darby already has everyone she meets projecting their condolences on her. This is a vicious cycle.
Darby, you have all my love and all my concern at the moment. Almost everything is out of my control, but I am 100% in your corner, praying for a great week at middle school. Just take it one day at a time, and I will be waiting for you at home where I will give you love and ice cream.
No comments:
Post a Comment