Last night I laid out my kids clothes, and packed the non-perishables for a week of my daughter’s lunches. I gave them both a little melatonin so they would fall asleep at a decent hour despite sleeping in that morning (daughter) and a late nap (son). Then I set my own alarm and went to sleep.
Today my daughter starts 2nd grade, and my son starts what I hope will be his final year of daycare (we’ll be entering the transitional kindergarten lottery in the fall). I will be standing in front of my new students this Wednesday. Another school year begins.
This is my 37th year on this earth and my 14th year teaching. I have high hopes for this year, in my personal and professional lives. Sure the world is on fire (and I never know what to write about that) but I still want to make positive changes for me and my family.
The nature of my job really brings into sharp focus the passage of time. At the beginning of every school year it feels like the following summer will never come, and yet, every year, it does. The years pass whether we mark their passing or let them slip by. Now, with kids, I am even more acutely aware of that. Someday I will be looking back on this time in my life with some mixture of appreciation and regret. This year I will try hard to ensure there is more of the former.