Well, it’s been about a month since students, parents, and teachers donned their lighted hats and headed back to the salt mines to complete this school year. I probably shouldn’t portray getting an education in such light, but those with multiple children enrolled in school will surely understand where I’m coming from. The good news: the canary is still alive and kicking, and what will not kill us will surely make us stronger.
While I thoroughly enjoyed third grade with Ms. Emmert the first time at James F. Bay Elementary in Seabrook, Texas, (GO BEAVERS!) third grade the fourth time around is proving to be pretty TAKSing on me.
In His infinite wisdom, the Big Man upstairs knew this would be the case, and sent the last one down with an independent streak not seen since her mother. She’s my reward for getting her brothers through the years I swore I’d not survive. I let her think it’s her idea to handle most of her school business, but I know the ugly truth: I just can’t bring myself to do it again.
One of the hardest parts of having three in school is managing the avalanche of paper that comes home each day. Even though I have extensive training and experience in document control, I struggle. My semi-elaborate filing system is complete with procedures regarding retention, and timing of proper destruction. Sounds silly, I know, but it was that, buy a larger home, or rent storage space.
Even with tight document control, I fear I’ll be advised in the future that I signed away my first-born. After ten years of spending each weekday signing here and initialing there, I find myself in a trance-like state as I perform my duty. I try to pay attention, but it’s the same song, fourth verse, and I already know all the words.
The second hardest part for me is the current technology. I haven’t decided whether being able to see grades and cafeteria purchases via the internet is a blessing or a curse. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
As of next school year, I’ll only have one left in elementary. I’m unsure whether to be happy or sad regarding that fact, but I’m leaning heavily towards happy. I don’t want to rush them growing up, but I’m learning that I like my children more and more the older they get, and the more responsibility they take for themselves. They no doubt will continue to need me for many years to come, as I am tethered to the checkbook.
I don’t believe one should ever stop learning, so it’s off to the S.A.L.T. (Students and Adults Learning Together) mines for me. I’m catching a slight twinkle of light every now and then at the end of the tunnel; some days I fear it’s a freight train headed my way.
Who knows how I’ll feel when our work in the mines is done, but I know one thing for sure…we’ll all be worth our salt.
© 2008 Natalie Whatley