Class of 2024

The strangest thing happened a couple weeks ago. Somehow, the vice principal at the freshman academy got my email address and sent me a long detailed email about the class of 2024, and how supposedly I had a child in that class, and there was some meeting I was to attend in the coming weeks. Cleary there was a mistake somewhere, because my oldest is only in….oh crap…8th grade, which means next year she’d be at…the freshman academy, and this was actually intended to come to me because I have a child in the class of 2024. Now listen, I’m not saying there were tears, because I’m not that kind of mom. But there were tears.

Last night Ryan and I attended the parent meeting for ninth graders starting the freshman academy in the fall. As we walked in, we passed the familiar faces of parents to the kids my daughter is friends with. Looks like this was really happening. We listened to the guidance counselors assure us that our kids are in good hands- that they really don’t have to know their whole four year plan right this minute, but soon. SOON? She’s a CHILD! A baby, if you will! How in the world will MY baby know what classes she should take three or four years from now? It was all a little overwhelming! For me.

We got home and talked to Lilly about some of her options- what AP classes she would need to take as a freshman, and which ones she could push out to the following years. We discussed study halls and the importance of giving herself a little extra time to work on assignments during her busy seven-period-filled day. She apparently had a plan of her own already brewing. She knew what she was doing taking two years of foreign language as a middle schooler, she knew about summer PE options, etc. My gosh, she’s not a baby, huh?

And just like that, my oldest Little is nearing her high school years, and this mama is not even close to okay with it. Four more years. That’s all. Ya’ll I am not being dramatic. Just wait. It seems like only yesterday I was taking her for “coffee” after her kindergarten orientation. Or for ice cream after her sixth grade “Back to School” night.  What about all those years in between? And so, it hit me that this is it- we only have a handful of years with her living under our roof, and it’s time I really recognize the importance of time with her.

It’s insane to me that I have a daughter who is on the brim of teenage attitude, which very rarely but occasionally rears its ugly head. I am so impressed with her selection of friends, her ease of transitioning to another school, and her love for other people. I adore her confidence and willingness to put herself out there and to try new things. She is the kindest, sweetest, easiest child in the world, and I am SO thankful to be her mom….even if she is going to leave me in four years!


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