“I would never send my child to that school,” said my friend after I toured the local public high school in my community. And while I don’t need to make this rather weighty decision for another year, this is how we moms are trained to act in the era when high school seniors such as Suzie Lee Weiss are outlining the harsh realities facing college applicants in razor sharp Wall Street Journal op-eds. That’s a topic for a different blog.
If you’re from Florida, don’t blink, because if you do, you’re sure to close your eyes in summer and open them to the start of school. What? When did this happen? It’s August! Miami—and to quote our very own hometown celebrity Lisa Petrillo—is “uninhabitable” in the summer so imagine bypassing the bathing suit for a clingy, polyester uniform and suffering a mild stroke in PE while lugging books and backpacks to the steamy, hot car. But that’s not what I’m going to blog about today. No one cares much about Miami these days, though I will talk about a hot car.
Our twin boys return from sleep away camp in a few hours. Wishing for their return means wishing the summer away, and closing their cabin door means stepping into a home which feels distant and awkward. Experience prepares us for the requisite how to’s: how to prepare for that big game and big exam. But what prepares our kids (and us) for re-entry into a comfortable, yet foreign land? Just because we want them home, doesn’t mean they want to be there.