In less than 9 hours, the boys will be whisked off to their first day of 5th and 2nd grades. Part of me is rejoicing that I survived summer with my children 24/7. The other part of me is feeling a bit bitter-sweet that they’re already this old. Those days of innocence are coming to an end I fear. If I’m finding these years challenging, what’s going to happen when the teenage years begin?! I’m screwed.

Today was Supply Drop Off and Meet the Teacher Day. I think I’ve written about this before, but the way our school district does this is completely maniacal and sadistic. There are about 2,000 students among the elementary, intermediate and middle schools which are all clustered together within walking distance of one another. Supplies are to be dropped off, teachers met, lockers found, bus tags gotten, lunch accounts filled etc. For ONE HOUR. For all 2,000 students and their parents. It’s pure, raw hell. When Amazon Warrior Princess starts 1st grade, I’ll have to do this for three children. I better start medicating now.

I have no idea why they do it this way. I’m assuming there is some good reason for it, but perhaps it’s the Administration’s last jab at parents before they are stuck with our kids for the next 9 months. I can’t say I blame them. Educators are all saints in my book, and an hour of revenge seems okay considering.

Other times I think that it’s some annual social experiment in which students and parents are unwitting participants. I picture the principals in some big control room monitoring all the halls and classrooms from a giant screen.

“Okay, turn off the A/C in the 2nd grade hallway. Good! Good! That made the vein on ten mothers’ heads start throbbing! We’ve got a complete melt down in the 1st grade hall! Well done!”

“Cue jams for locker numbers 127, 359 and 785. Wait for it…wait for it! RELEASE! YES!!! Nailed them all in the head! Initiate lingering dead sock smell!”

“We’ve got escapees! How did they get done so fast?! Fire Drill! Time for a Fire Drill!”

After the bedlam has died down, they begin to assess the parents they broke. I picture Count Rugen from “The Princess Bride” after he sucked one year of Wesley’s life away, “So let’s just start with what we have. What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity, so… be honest.” Then they start culling the herd. Only the strong survive.

Whatever the reason they do it this way, I managed to survive another year. Tomorrow is the first day of school. To all the teachers, bus drivers, school nurses, lunch supervisors…God speed. We parents appreciate you more than you can know.