School’s Out for Summer: Pink Ribbon Raucous
June 17, 2008 by Karen Lynch
Filed under Women's Health
Yes, school’s out for summer. I’m ready for a pink ribbon raucous. At least, that’s what I’m expecting. Noise, noise, noise. It’ll be hard to accomplish much of anything once my babies are home with me for their summer vacation. But I don’t mind one bit.
Bring. It. On.
Because even though the noise level in my household will go through the roof much of the summertime, I welcome the cadence of my kids. I’m blessed to be around that I want to hear them celebrate. I’ll sing the songs with them (”no more homework, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks”).I’m likely to hand streamers from the sides of my minivan for heaven’s sake. I’m jazzed.
The last day of school is a rite of passage, a day that brings them from one grade level to the next; an instantaneous increase in their self-esteem. This afternoon at exactly 1:40 pm, I’ll have a fourth grader, not a third grader. I’ll have a second grader, not a first grader. (Thankfully my daughter will remain a preschooler for another year because three kids in grade school is just too much to ponder.)
The last day of school is a right of passage that serves as a poignant reminder for survivors that we need to let loose and celebrate the passing of time. From now on, life is all about milestones reached. This year, the last day of the school year feels no less important to me than the day my first son took his first steps, or the day my second son will lose his first tooth, or the day my daughter will spend the ehtire night in a twin bed (as opposed to creeping into mine during the wee hours). Milestones … like the night we celebrated my 40th birthday. Or the week next year when we celebrate for my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary.
Yes, today … I’ll celebrate my kids last day of school.
For the record, there will be summer camp days for all three of my kids. But only after and in between beach days, pool days, lazing around and watching TV days, hiking days, biking days … days with my babies. Precious, precious days.
