Posted in Life, parenting

Well. That Escalated Quickly.

I decided to take a quick break from cleaning up the house and browse the internet. As of late, every moment of the day is accounted for. Seriously. I have an hour and a half before I need to head out to pick MD up from school, come home, whip up some supper and then hit the door to be at work for the night. Anyway, that’s besides the point.

The email came today.

The one about my “future high school student.” 

I won’t even try to mask my emotions here. I straight up cried. Then I clicked on all the attachments and started sobbing. In my mind, I thought I had more time. Like none of this paperwork/red tape/IB/AP program thing wouldn’t start till I don’t know… NEVER. Reality just bitch slapped me you guys. Whew.

The thing is, if we were zoned for a good high school, this wouldn’t be an issue. I could just show up with proper paperwork, enroll him and then promptly go home where I could bask in the glory of not having to write another tuition check. Only, we’re not even close to a “good” high school (and I’m being polite). We’ve known since MD was in third grade that he would have to go to a different high school then the one we are zoned for. Honestly, I thought I had more time. But lookie here, it’s September. In three weeks the applications for magnet programs become available. Teacher recommendation forms need to be in by early November. Then…

Oh nevermind the “then.”

Time has begun to slip through my fingers and our son will be in high school soon.

There is so much prep work and as I look at the calender, my mind doesn’t work in months or even weeks. It works in days. This many till this. That many till then. This will happen there. There will happen here.

And in between all the sniffles and wadded up kleenex, I take a moment to breathe. Handing my anxiety back to the Universe, I take another deep breath.

One day at a time.

So here we are:

Day one.