Last night Rhett and I took Tristen to our neighborhood high schools' 8th graders/incoming freshman open house. Talk about an in-your-face-reality-check. High school. Is NEXT YEAR. Next. Year!
O.
M.
G.
There is so much to consider. Core classes, electives, credits, proof of efficiency tests, AP programs, college prep classes, and much much, MUCH more. All of the sudden the realization that I have just 4 years left to help guide and direct him, while slowly releasing my side of the rope that dictates his choices and decisions, simultaneously balancing my sanity and his opportunity for future life success by giving him all I can to equip him to be a well rounded, strong, confident person ready to take life by the bull horns and run. Eeeeeeeeek. Leaves me with a very long run on sentence and an overwhelming sense that this is it. This is the time. Whatever it takes. These next four years are going to be precious. I'm scared to death.
[this post has been sitting, apparently I forgot to hit publish. And even though this particular night happened months ago, every single thought is still valid and the truth of my Now]
1 comment:
Holy crap. I'm horrified of the thought of this day at my house.
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