It was the best of times and the worst of times....and I barely survived.

Well, I've decided I better write about this before my memory fails me and I forget. It's mostly just for motherhood purposes, so I can look back and see how far I've grown in a few years when I have to go through it all over again.....ugh. I don't even know where to begin for these feelings I have. This new episode in the reality of our life.

Excitement. There's one of them. I am completely excited, now as always, for the adventures in the life of my kids. And starting high school is a pretty big ADVENTURE, to say the least.

I just hope he hasn't been stuffed in the garbage can yet...you know, the whole rite of passage of the lowest on the totem pole thing. Usually manuevered by some older upper classmen who are fellow athletes. I will attempt to explain to him that it means they like you, not to take it personally and all, but I'm just guessing that the embarassment and the melted snickers, already chewed blob of gum and pencil shavings that will be stuck to his clothing will speak a different message to him.

But what do I know, I'm just the mom, remember. And being a "mom" means you must have just skipped teenage-hood completely, or at least that's what those munchkins like to think once they reach the "cool" stage of life.

Well, guess what, I didn't get to skip over being a teenager. But I did survive. And I guess that means I will survive this too. Although, I'm beginning to think that being a teenager was actually a lot easier than raising a teenager.

But in order to be transparent, just let me say, concerning the leap up to high school....I don't like it.

I don't like having him start all over again.

I don't like having to let go piece by piece, little by little, watching him mature more and more each day, and thus consequently, need me less and less.

It sucks. How about that? I said it and I meant it.

Although I really shouldn't have said it. My kids read this and that phrase is not allowed at our house. Of course, neither is chocolate for lunch, but I've actually had it for all 3 meals before.

So call me a rebel. It still sucks.

Anyway, it's hard. Parenting. Being a mom.

Giving your heart to a tiny being that you alone provided nourishment to sustain it's life for 9 months....only to find out that same being will grow up to become a high schooler and ask you to drop him off 500 feet from the door. Instead of wanting you to hold his hand and waltz right up to his desk.

Which brings me to the photo I included. His first day of high school. He informed me I was NOT allowed to come in taking photos like some crazed mother full of love. Who Me?? He did offer this small compromise:
"okay, here's the deal, you can take a picture of me walking into high school, but only from the car...."

Ha. He thinks he's in charge...and I let him keep thinking that, too. In order to save face, mine and his, I didn't take my camera inside. I took the photo, from the car. The misty morning you probably notice in the pic was merely a perfect match to my misty eyes behind the lens.

See there's the problem with hard core first day of high school + photography. My car was climate controlled, but when I stuck the camera outside in the morning air....to try and capture that exact moment of letting go....the lens fogged up.

And it would have been beyond embarassing if I would have even thought twice about asking the high schooler in the photo to stop or slow down or wait until my camera acclimated itself. Beyond embarassing. So he kept walking and I kept taking foggy-eyed pictures from both sides of the camera.

It's hard. The letting go is overwhelming.

No, I'm not being dramatic. Try it sometime. You'll see.

So, here's what I've decided. Wholeheartedly. I'm not letting go. I can't. I won't. And you can't make me. So there. I feel much better now.

I kind of think I liked it better when his backpack was a smaller size and hung down to his knees as he walked in for his first day of school.

Oh my word! I may have to start on something a little stronger than Mt. Dew to get me through.