Natalie Whatley

When the human body becomes overheated, or maybe it’s half-baked, things go haywire.

Bad timing like no other, my home’s air conditioner chose this past week with its 100-degree temps to have issues. In a heat-induced hallucination I began dreaming of an ice cold “Winter Wonderland” devoid of heat and bickering teens.  In that snow white pleasant state of delirium I heard bells. School bells.

Then I found myself humming Felix Bernard’s famous winter melody and taking liberties with the lyrics Richard Smith added to it. I’m certain they won’t mind the ramblings of a deranged woman.

 Open your freezer door, stand in the crisp coolness bellowing out, and sing along in celebration for what is truly the most wonderful time of year:

                School bells ring, are you listening

                In the lane, Mom’s smile’s a glistening

                A beautiful sight,

                We’re happy all right.

                Kids are back to school throughout the land.

Gone away, is the summer,

Here to stay, homework’s a bummer

It brings smarts along

To even the headstrong,

Kids are back to school throughout the land.

In the classroom they can’t visit sandman,

And someone will be acting the class clown 

He’ll say: Are you buried?

They’ll say: YES, man,

‘Cause who can do a job

When they’re this down?

Later on, they’ll aspire,

As they scheme with some ire

To launch a tirade,

Over assignments displayed,

Kids are back to school throughout the land.

At the schoolhouse they will now spend their days,

And complain it’s really quite a bore

I don’t care the complaints leave me unfazed;

I did my time, now you must do your chore.

When school starts, ain’t it thrilling?

‘Cause young minds get a filling

They’ll whine and they’ll cry,

For summer’s gone by,

Kids are back to school; life is grand!

Ah! Back to school is so refreshingly cool.  The thermometer can explode tomorrow for all I care because life will be good, and more importantly: quiet. 

Summers with my children are special, but mostly because they’re fleeting. No way could we all handle so much together time year-round.

The last couple of weeks are always an extreme exercise in toleration. And to have the indoor climate control on the fritz when folks are already hot under the collar: not pretty.

But we made it through and fully recovered with the help of a skilled repairman and several hundred dollars.

We’re cool, calm and collected—ready to take on the new school year and jam-packed calendar.  And I can’t stop myself from singing: When school starts, ain’t it thrilling . . . 

Whew!  We survived the first week of school. While I’m an old hand at sending kids back to school, I’m not even close to acquiring the coping skills necessary for the job. Braving the traffic and woefully inadequate parking at the elementary campus comes close to sending me over the edge. And, the volumes of paperwork that must be completed in one evening cause me to consider throwing myself off a cliff. Last Monday, with eyes crossed and hands curled in arthritic fashion, I asked out loud how many more times I’d have to write my name, address, phone number and emergency contact information. With a sly grin, my oldest took great delight in slapping his pile onto the kitchen table.

As I convalesced after the brutal first day of my three children needing to be in three separate places – two of them at roughly the same time – I realized there’s a very important group of individuals overlooked in all the hoopla surrounding the back-to-school mania: bus drivers. I’m a head-strong, can-do kind of girl, but I couldn’t handle that job on my best day.

I have fond memories of a couple of the ladies who drove me to school as a child. With seeming ease, they navigated the streets and somehow blocked out the mass of chattering, wiggly chaos behind them. I can barely drive with my own three children, who ride under threat of bodily harm for engaging in any funny business that would distract me. Some drivers have 25 times that number of passengers, and still deliver their cargo with a smile. I don’t know how they do it.

Ms. Rucker was the first delivering me to school via bus. She mastered the art of being firm with just enough sweetness thrown in that none of us wanted to disappoint her. When someone decided to act a fool, she gave a look in her mirror that negated any need for her to speak. Then there was Ms. Leatherwood, whose first words, “All right troops, listen up!” grabbed our attention. We were told exactly how things were going to be and that deviations were unacceptable.  I secretly liked her because I felt safe under her watch.

It’s tradition in the Whatley household for the children to be personally chauffeured to the assigned school and walked in the first day. The older two no longer allow the walking-in part, but still expect a ride…provided I promptly leave and refrain from blowing the horn and kisses as I drive away. After that, it’s the yellow limousine.

We’ve been blessed over the years with some awesome drivers. Mrs. Becky Shipp, known for dropping off binders on her way home because a certain young lady’s socializing took priority over the location of her homework, tops the list. She changed routes this year. I’m only forgiving her because she became a beloved member of our family. We’re supposed to forgive family, right?

Some much-deserved praise also goes to the support staff and mechanics laboring behind the scenes to ensure thousands of students arrive at the proper destinations. For various reasons, I made at least six phone calls to GCCISD Transportation this week. I got a pleasant, helpful person each time.    

To all past and present school transportation men and women: Thanks for transporting our future.

© 2008 Natalie Whatley

Much to the chagrin of kids everywhere, summer’s final moments are ticking down. Children and parents alike will bid farewell to spontaneous living as bells ring in the 2008-2009 school year bright and early tomorrow morning. 

After children are deposited at the proper locations, there will be dancing in the streets (Jeff tells everyone that I perform the celebratory ritual in a state of undress), and bon bon consumption will markedly increase. (I don’t believe I’ve ever personally consumed a bon bon, but I go along with the misnomer that stay-at-home moms do nothing but eat them and relax on the couch all day – it’s far more enviable than what I actually do with myself while disguised as the laundry and grocery fairy.)

I’m excited for my children, and a teeny bit delighted for me. Peace and quiet will once again reign over chunks of my day.  It will be difficult to sleep tonight, but tomorrow morning I’ll bounce out of bed, unaided by the alarm clock. Few things motivate me in such a way.

I love the fresh start that accompanies the first day of school. While many make resolutions in January at the start of a new calendar year, I make mine in September. Like the Januarians (I know that’s not a word, but it sounds pretty cool), diet and exercise usually top the list. I’ve spent the past ten years learning that it takes six months to undo a few lazy weeks coupled with snacking on kids’ fare. A more intelligent person would’ve considered that prior to ingesting what I have this summer.

Ordinarily, nine months is plenty of time to attain some goals, but sometimes the challenges of keeping my offspring on the right path impede my progress. That aside, I’m joining my children this year in heading back to school. I wonder who will nag me about my homework? Since I have a pretty decent record of getting results in that department, it will probably be me. I chose classes I wanted to take, so I’m hoping it won’t feel like work at all.

The real challenges facing me this school year are my children attending  three separate campuses (elementary, junior high and high school), and having my oldest start driving himself to school after the Christmas break.  For years I’ve been able to escape having to read all the papers that come home by first weeding out the duplicates. Now I’ll have to sift through it all as it’s coming from different locales.  I’m certain that will be far easier than waiting what will seem like an eternity for my oldest to drive himself home, or having him arrive too quickly. Poor thing, maybe he’ll surprise me and time it just right.

Summers are always a welcome, much-needed break from tight schedules and seemingly endless work. I love it because of the conversations that come up when those things are removed. Now it’s time to dig in and get back to traveling towards the destination we must prepare for – the future. It seems an eternity away, but will be here all too quickly. I hope I’ve timed things at least close to just right.

© 2008 Natalie Whatley