Ellington

The highlighted square of August 17 glows on my calendar, outshining all other dates like a beacon of light leading lost souls to their salvation. I'm not alone. The promise of school starting has most of my fellow mothers smiling in frenzied anticipation.

After almost three months of kids milling around, getting underfoot and having a running commentary on every single thing you buy at the market, I am thrilled with the prospect of time by myself. I know from experience that those endless hours of unscheduled summer time can really stack up, blinding the mind with a kind of numbness only found in the brains of the incarcerated.

That is why knowing that there will be a chunk of my day that will be my own is calming and freeing.

I do know a few parents who say they will bemoan the loss of unlimited time with Junior when it is time for him to start back to school. I am convinced these women are the same ones who proclaim to have loved every minute of their pregnancy. Such a woman looked at me in bewilderment when I expressed how much I was looking forward to school starting again.

"But haven't you enjoyed being with your children for the summer?" she asked.

Fearing to disappoint her or, worse, having the ever-joyful I-Can't-Get-Enough-of-Motherhood-Unite Club take away my children, I said with a semblance of sincerity: "But, of course. I will miss them dreadfully. D-r-e-a-d-f-u-l-l-y. I really can't speak of it anymore." Which was nothing but the truth, at least the last part of it.

"Yes," she squealed, "I know exactly how you feel!"

You don't mess with women who are in love with motherhood. They can get ugly quickly, and it is a scary thing to witness.

This is not to say that I do not adore my children, for I do, unequivocally. One of the things I like best about them going to school is hearing them tell me after school how their days were.

"Just to tell you, I had the most worst/best day ever," they exclaim.

After the day-rating declaration, we try to unravel the circumstances and actions that would have made them the best of days or the worst of days or both, as it were. This discernment process unfolds itself over our after-school snack, which invariably includes some varied flavor of popsicle (yes, even in winter).

I truly do relish these times with my children. While I probably haven't pined away with want of seeing them during the day, I do want to be with them after that long of an interval of separation, if only to hear the best and worst parts of their time at school.

Most of the women I talked to who are not looking forward to the start of school are those who bear the past scars of homework experience (I say women because out of the majority of the parents I know, the fathers play a rather negligible role in the overseeing of homework). Even if these mothers don't participate in the actual doing of the homework itself, they have the monitoring and checking of homework tasks and the calling out of spelling lists.

As this will be the first year that either one of my children will have work to bring home, I can only speculate at its threat to our familial bliss; however, I think we might be in for a hell of a time.

I thought of this as I watched my daughter writhing on the floor chanting "I can't do it! I CAN'T DO IT!!!" when I have asked her to write her numbers from 1 to 100 (something our school encouraged us to do over our break, part of the "Keeping the Child's Mind Sharp During the Summer" exercises. I made a stab at them. Once.).

After seeing her performance over this one assignment, I am filled with joyful expectation over the fun and games we will have during the ensuing afternoons and nights. At least now I can guess that the invention of the cocktail hour was of therapeutic importance.

Perhaps having the time to do what I like is the part that is so seductive about the start of school. I am sure that by May I will be looking at the end of school as my liberator from the yoke of unending schedules and set demands.

Until then, though, this particular mother will breathe a sigh of relief when I see my two cherubs walk through their classroom doors this 17th.

Hollidae Morrison Robinson is a writer and mother who lives in North Jackson.

Previous Comments

ID

73256

Comment

I'm ecstatic that school is back in session, and I don't have children! Let me explain: (1) I had to babysit my nephew (13) and nieces (8 and 5) while my sisters worked. Despite my best efforts, there was more bickering, whining and tattletailing than one person should be allowed to deal with five days a week. In addition, I had to put them on a meal schedule so that there would still be food in the house after they left. (2) Unfortunately, some of the neighborhood children were not supervised at certain parts of the day, so I had to pick up candy wrappers, potato chip bags, soda cans, etc. on a regular basis.

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2006-08-10T22:27:32-06:00

ID

73257

Comment

Great piece, Hollidae! And, I have no idea who those crazy people are who are NOT excited to see school start. We never managed any of those 'activities' to keep their brains sharp (other than reading), either, and we've managed just fine through all the homework. With the exception of endless drilling on multiplication tables.

Author

kate

Date

2006-08-14T17:16:27-06:00

ID

73258

Comment

Kate, help me convince Hollidae to keep writing for us. She's perhaps the funniest writer who has passed through my writing classes. I've been on her for a while to write for us. ;-)

Author

DonnaLadd

Date

2006-08-14T17:17:57-06:00

ID

73259

Comment

I enjoyed it muchly! I enjoy a chick who knows a good thing when she sees it! Kids+Gone=Good (at least for the short term, school day ;)

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-08-14T19:01:27-06:00

ID

73260

Comment

And she needs to come back to yoga, like some other entertaining, writerly chicks that I know. But yes, Hollidae does indeed need to keep writing.

Author

kate

Date

2006-08-14T19:13:25-06:00

ID

73261

Comment

Yeah, yeah, I know. Hint taken. We writerly chicks *badly* need to come back to yoga.

Author

DonnaLadd

Date

2006-08-14T19:16:15-06:00