Friday, September 10, 2010
We are in full blown back-to-school mode, with lots of transitions this year. I've survived the first two weeks but there were moments that I just wanted to bottle. (You know those times when something is just so precious, you want to keep the memory forever?)
JJ started third grade and is obsessed with Junior Wolverine football (it is a cult here in Bellevue). Now, you know I like my football, having spent my teen years doing the whole Friday Night Lights thing in Chickasha, OK, rooting on the Fightin' Chicks. Everything we did in the fall revolved around the Friday night game. There would be a pep rally at school and we'd spend the weeknights before making purple and gold posters for it. There would be a community bonfire the night before and the whole town would turn out. You could always tell a football player's house by the wooden football-shaped sign, bearing his number, in front of his house. (I just saw one of those signs in Clyde Hill the other day.) Fridays were buzzing and we couldn't wait to get to Memorial Stadium to cheer our "boys" on.
Flash forward many years; I never expected to have a football player of my own, especially since Brian's sport of choice in high school was soccer and, well, JJ is the farthest thing from aggressive. Doesn't like confrontation. Doesn't like to wrestle. Cries at the hint of hurt. But there he is (pictured above, playing center), my baby, #36, ready to rumble. One day I told him to get ready for practice and when he came up for help (for chrissakes, he still needs help putting the cup in his pants, I mean, really, is he ready for tackle football??!) and he gave me a big hug. I hugged him back and he said, "I wish we could hug forever." And then he padded himself up and proceeded to go out and knock the crap out of people. (The part I want to bottle is the hug part, obviously.)
Miss P started middle school this year! She has been as cool as a cuke, not worried about a thing and has breezed through the first two weeks. We agreed to drive her to school, because she likes to get there early and if she took the bus, it would be a challenge to get to class on time. But after day three of the dreaded pick up, I told her she needed to ride the bus home. (She's never ridden one to or from school before.) On the first day, she texted me when she got on. It took every bit of restraint I had to not walk to the bus stop to make sure she got off safe. Instead, I sat out on the chairs on my front patio and tried to be non-chalant. When she came walking up, she said "Mom, why are you sitting here?" I lied: "Because it's a nice day." She gave me a knowing look, smiled, and walked into the house. I was able to hold back the tears, but couldn't help but think, wow -- she's all grown up!