
It's 8:00 in the morning on this, our last day of summer freedom. This is the first time in over five years that the ending of summer break has been a real bummer. Probably the biggest bummer of my life. Tomorrow I have to hand my little Junie over to the public school system. Kindergarten just snuck right up on us, and I don't feel prepared for this change at all.
It's been a great summer, filled with family reunions, swim parties, barbecues, ball games, and more hot dogs than I'd like to admit to. Although, if you ask Kolby, his summer vacation was a joke - two weeks with the family and then back to the grind on July 6th.
But today I have a sick feeling in the pit of my gut. I'm worried. My girls are my whole life. In fact, you could probably count the days we have spent apart on one hand. I don't know how a parent does this school business. Everyone keeps telling me to be excited and enjoy the little bit of free time I will have now that June is off to school. I won't. I know myself well enough to realize that I'm just going to be a nervous wreck wondering if she is safe going to the bathroom, or in danger on the playground where the kids can be ruthless, and strangers could be lurking.
June was worried about this day, too. She was worried until she got to visit her bright, colorful classroom filled with toys, puzzles and art supplies. And it only took one look at the playground to convince her that school is the place to be. I know she's going to hop out of the car tomorrow, head for class and never look back. I know I did. I loved school! And I want her to love it, too. But chances are, I'll be the one lurking in the parking lot, just to make sure she doesn't need me. June did give me permission to linger. Yesterday she told me, "Mom, it's okay if you want to sit in your car and cry for a while." So I think I will.













