Vol. 107 - School Daze

On the end of our first real summer

Today marks the end of our first official summer as parents of a school-aged kid.

Last summer, when he was a rising kindergartner, our son was in pre-k throughout the season, giving us only two weeks (when the school closes to give its teachers and staff a little summer break) to sort out.

This summer, on the other hand, the game was fully on.

Rather than a small army of amazing women working tirelessly to take care of our kids during the dog days of summer, we were left to our own devices, to try and keep our son occupied and engaged while Emily and I did our best to remain productive members of functioning society.

Luckily, we’re both self-employed, which means we have a ton of flexibility with our time. I honestly have no idea how traditionally employed parents do it. My hat’s off to them.

Thanks almost wholly to Emily’s efforts, our son had an amazing summer full of camps stitched together from week to week. There were art camps, science camps, nature camps, mountain biking camps, and even a weeklong theater camp smack in the middle of Manhattan.

And then, as it always does, summer crept to an end.

We decided to keep our son out of camp for the final week of the season, to give him time to decompress, to laze about (ha!), and to hit the pool early and often (which was thwarted by an early fall-like snap of weather).

And just like last year, the first placid, peaceful morning Emily and I have enjoyed at home since June was shattered with a message from our son’s school.

Apparently, there was an intruder at his school. Thankfully, the person was handled swiftly but some good samaritans and the local police department. It remains unclear as to what his motives were to break into an elementary school.

Still, it served as a stark reminder that one of the places you presume your children to be most safe is sometimes anything but.

Later that afternoon, our son plodded off the bus with a ten-mile-wide smile plastered across his face. He loves school. In fact, late last week, he asked if we could time travel into the future, that he might start school sooner.

In many ways, he’s a lot like his old man. In this regard, he’s anything but. For me, the end of summer was a time of dread, as nothing could be worse than school.

I hope that love of school lasts as long as possible for him. I hope that, unlike me, he always looks forward to the first day of school. And I hope I see that big, silly, irrepressible smile for years to come as he climbs down the stairs from his school bus.

Anyway, I wish all of you a happy and safe school year.