Tribe, it’s August. Depending on where you live, your school-age children are either just starting their new academic year or anticipating this year’s First Day.
I’m going to let you in on something: a lot of depressed, bipolar, anxiety-punched people have no fucking idea where the social security cards are. The amount of paperwork, appointment-making and keeping, and interfacing with public school personnel involved in getting your kid(s) registered and set for school is sometimes Holy Shit Mountain to us (I mean, really, I think it’s a daunting pain in the ass for everyone, and actually, I think the public school system is a good idea failing that gets co-opted by pundits and money-grabbers at the expense of our children’s peace). So if you climbed it, color me impressed.
My household is on the edge of readiness. One kid is entirely enrolled but still needs supplies; another will cruise in with everything in place at the last minute, but they’ll make it.
I wish I was better at this. It’s nothing to do with love or lack of it for my children. It might have a little something to do with my inherent disdain for institutions and my own early-life experiences with Front Office Ladies. But mostly? It’s my brain wires and juices.
Some years are better than others. I’m calling this one a 7, but without my support network I’d be looking at a 3. If you’re still in the thick of it, we’re all rooting for you. One way or another, it’s going to come together. Maybe a little late even, but it will happen.