The desks are out.
The chairs will be ordered this week, as will the other school supplies.
Wednesday, we’ll do a drive-by to pick up our text and workbooks.
We still need to purchase one more laptop.
Teacher assignments will be sent out tomorrow morning, and our virtual ‘Meet the Teacher’ will round out the week on Thursday.
I’ve still got to find and subscribe to a few more online courses for my Prekindergartner.
I feel unprepared.
I feel like we’re not as organized as we should be.
I’m itching to get back into more of a routine, but fear I might crumble under the weight of it.
I’m worried about how this will go.
I’m concerned there won’t be enough of me to go around.
Speaking of going around, I’m not confident I’ll be able to keep the four-year-old and her far from quiet voice from distracting her siblings or interrupting their class zooms.
Those class zooms that will be taking place inside the same walls where my husband will be working and taking his conference calls.
Did I mention we have a dog that loves to bark?
Did I share with you that my (much needed) therapy is writing and that I do it on my computer — the same device which has now been assigned to my son for the corona-tainted future?
I’m not sure there’s enough
and wine to get me through the 2020-2021 school year,
and that’s fine ‘cause I’m not relying on any of that this go-round.
Because with enough
and support from my family, spouse, and friends,
I’ve got this.
And in case you’ve convinced yourself otherwise, hear this loud and clear when I tell you,
you’ve got this, too.
And because we’ve got this, so do the little champions who reside — and now learn — in our homes.
The desks are out and what forever matters more than the work produced on them,
is the young human sitting at them.
and compassion bouncing back and forth between
a kid and their parent,
a kid and their teacher,
that teacher and that kid’s parent,
that teacher and her whole class,
that parent and the overcritical voice in their head,
there’s no doubt this year will bring all sorts of growth and growth, well,
I’d contend it is a damn good marker of success.
I’m anxious. That’s my truth.
But I’m also pretty damn sure I just convinced myself (and hopefully you) that there’s no pressing need to be.