'Twas the Night Before High School

I am starting high school tomorrow!

No, I'm not.

My son is.

And I am emotional and anxious.

I remember my ninth grade year as clear as day. I remember the

Benetton logo striped shirt I wore THREE too many times. I remember my

horrible perm. I remember walking through the hallways, seeing the

older boys I had a crush on -- the ones who didn't like me back.

I remember feeling uncertain where I fell socially.

Big shocker: I didn't feel super cool.

I don't think I was super cool.

Wait. Am I now super cool?!

(No need to answer!)

I think because my starting high school FEELS like yesterday, I am

feeling extra attached to my son and projecting. Just a bit.

My anxiety has to be his anxiety.

Of course I know what he is thinking and feeling!

I am his mother.

Ahhh.

Here's the thing, I am his mother.

I am not my son. He is not me.

My jitters, my worry about what tomorrow may bring is mine.

It is not his.

Right. Get a grip.

Jacob is this incredible kid.

No, really, I swear. He is.

He's adorable to look at, sweet and so decent a human.

He's crazy bright -- way more diligent and disciplined in his studies than I was.

He is self aware and comfortable in his own not yet through puberty skin.

He's that kid -- the one who hands in his work FINISHED. and on time.

He's that kid -- the one who won't compromise who he to please anyone else.

I am still working on that part of me.

Tomorrow Jacob starts high school.

He will thrive -- with the normal teenage boy bumps along the way I am sure.

He will sleep tonight, get up tomorrow and go to high school with his

head held high.

And I will be nervous.

But that has to be my problem.

I am his mother.

And he is not me.