Oh Summer, why do you always end so quickly? Not quite over yet, but Nerd Child goes back to school tomorrow. At this point I’ll be lucky to squeeze in one more beach day. This is our ninth year of watching at least one of the boys pack for the beginning of the school year, and yet it never, ever gets easier. And this is a big year. Art Child is going into high school, Nerd Child is in his last year of high school, and Man Child won’t be in school at all. Almost three months past and still a huge thought, that my oldest is a college graduate.
Once August begins, posts from friends in other parts of the country begin creeping into my newsfeed, showing me back to school pictures and advertisements. For the first week or so, I resent it–in New York we’re only halfway through. But by the third week, I’m in countdown mode, insomnia increasing even as I remember soon enough sleeping late won’t be an option; knowing it’s only a matter of time before I’m frantically filling out paperwork, asking for the eighth time if he’s sure he packed enough shampoo to last him until Thanksgiving. You’d think he was headed to Antarctica instead of New England, with no readily available drugstores.
I should be happy and excited for all of them. Art Child is going to a school that seems like it will be a good fit for her, a small and welcoming community. Not an art school, but she can and will continue with her Saturday art classes. Man Child will be home for about a week, and then he’s off to Europe for several months, with a job and housing lined up. Nerd Child is poised for an excellent year, and there’s no reason to think he won’t have at least a couple of great options for college once it’s all said and done.
Sure I’ll have a little more room when the amps clear out.
I’d say I won’t find picks underfoot constantly, but that’d be a lie. Those things multiply like Legos.
He should have begun packing this morning, but instead he headed downtown to the super sekrit, super awesome word-of-mouth-only luthier who made his guitar in order to get it adjusted.
Now he’s home, and should be packing. I should be yelling at him to pack. I should be reminding him to keep working on his application essays. But he’s playing, and I’m listening.