Natalie Whatley

With the kickoff of Memorial Day weekend, summer is unofficially here.

Before I get to the topic rolling around in my noggin this week, let’s pause from the barbecuing and enjoying family and friends to remember the fine men and women of the U.S. military who gave their lives in the service of this country. Freedom must never be taken for granted, and I fully appreciate the price many families have paid. Thank you.

The summer solstice and official beginning of summer won’t roll around until June 21, but here in these parts we know the humidity and hot temps come long before then.

For me, the beginning of June is more miserable than July or August because I’m not yet acclimated to the heat . . . from the sun or the incessant bickering that begins when three siblings begin cohabitating all day, every day after school lets out. I’ve got a few sane hours before that unpleasantness begins, so I’ll move on to more cheerful thoughts.

This coming Wednesday will be a happy, happy day for me – one that has been twelve long years in the making. Emphasis on the long and I can add sixyears if I consider my own elementary school days. That’s almost half my life! But I digress.

My youngest, Erin, will participate in fifth grade graduation exercises at Stephen F. Austin, and I will be forever done with elementary school. Can I get a “Hallelujah!” and an “Amen”? I’m having trouble containing my jubilation. And make no mistake, SFA Elementary is a fine institution of learning packed with the greatest staff ever to grace any school grounds, but I’m weary and ready to move on. 

I’d like to say that I waited until her graduation to allow burn-out to rear its ugly head in the form of some extreme parental laziness, but I can’t. (Yikes! She still has seven years to go.) The Big Guy had it all planned out, though.

My last baby is and always has been an easy-going, can-do kind of girl needing minimal prodding. Had I known she’d be that way before she got here, I would’ve enjoyed carrying her around for nine months instead of fretting over managing her on top of two rambunctious boys.  

I think back to when the oldest started school and how as soon as he came off the bus I was rifling through his backpack – often annoying him with my running commentary of things he considered over and done with.

I can’t recall the last time I went through Erin’s school stuff. As bad as that sounds, up until she got ready-to-get-out-of-school-now-itis, she had been pretty good about alerting me to the items needing my attention. Wow. I transformed from obsessing over everything without provocation to needing things held up in front of my face with flashing lights and alarming sound effects. Sad, but true.

In the end, I’m sure her elementary graduation will be a bittersweet moment. I’ll probably bawl like a hormonal middle-aged woman, just before I do cartwheels down the street. Somebody pass me the Kleenex. I’ll need them when I fall and scrape my knees.

© 2010 Natalie Whatley