So unexpected, this feeling. The kids are at their final half day, and I'm emptying out their backpacks. Stuff from the entire school year. So many plastic folders crammed full of old notices and worksheets. Worn out workbooks for math and spelling. Two acres worth of tropical rain forest pulp. And as I go through the papers, I'm feeling homesick. Like I want to hold on, and not move forward.
I'm not so good with change. I like familiar. Perhaps because familiar buffers life's unpredictability. I like to dig in, put down roots, stay in one place. I like the feeling of home.
Jack is nervous about 7th grade. He thinks all the teachers are mean. He was nervous about 6th grade, too. All year he's professed his profound dislike of it until about 2 weeks ago, when he too had to look towards something new and unknown. Now, suddenly, 6th grade was awesome.
And even though Ty's teacher allegedly favors eau du cheese doodle, he doesn't want to leave her either.
Mia cried when she thought about the last time for this or the last time for that.
All three were dragging their feet to leave the house this morning. Not because they wanted to stay home, but because they don't want it to be over. They don't want to say good-bye. I think they have the feeling that they can never go back. Even though they will know all the kids in next year's class, and they know the teachers, it will be different. This time is gone.
I remember them being grumpy at school's end last year as well. But this year has been so difficult for them. Maybe it's just too much change, too much loss, too much instability.
Maybe, for me, it's evidence that my babies are growing up too quickly. Each school year passes with increasing speed. Maybe it's just that I know blink Jack will be graduating high school, then blink Mia will be too. Maybe that's why I have this pit in my stomach.
It's hard to leave things behind. It's hard to move on.
I don't like it. Not one bit.