September 2007

Editor's Note

I don’t know about you, but as I face the start of the school year I am less concerned about my child’s performance than I am about my own. As self-appointed boss of the support team, I’m gearing up for active duty. Potential disasters lurk on all sides – in the tall stack of overdue school forms, the dark-screened family computer (needed for homework) that died this summer when a child fell on it, and the one shoe pointing at me from under the couch that is missing its mate and that – anyway – can’t fit on the foot that stretched out another whole size this summer. I did get the kids to the doctor for their sports physical and shots (well, I got my husband to get them there), but the immunization forms are hiding…in the side pockets of the car, perhaps?

Out of necessity, my kids are pretty good at finishing off their portion of the to-do lists. As they cheerfully plan their first day outfits and paste together school summer projects, a gloomy cloud settles over me. Goodbye to late night coziness and sleeping in, take-out dinners eaten at all hours, spontaneity and whim. Hello routines, schedules, lists and duty

What really concerns me, though, is the biggest challenge that comes with a new school year: figuring out how much more to loosen the strings that bind us to our kids. Like the writer in this issue who describes how to teach a child to ride a bike, once again we’ll need to figure out how not to hold our kids too tight while not giving them more freedom than they can handle. Whether we are deciding how they will get home from school, how much to get involved in their homework or how much advice to offer around the inevitable social challenges, we’re always searching for that safe distance that lets them learn and thrive.

A few weeks ago I came home to the sounds of rock music blasting against the walls of my 11-year-old’s room. In our effort to expand her independence, she’d spent the afternoon home alone, accompanied by a lengthy list of “suggestions.” As I opened her door I stifled a gasp. She lay flat on her back on the bed, her face coated with whipped avocado and sliced cucumbers resting on her eyes, a blissful smile visible under the goo. It was spa day. Shifting the heavy sack of groceries to my other hand, I felt a begrudging admiration for her ability to ignore my ideas about how she should spend her time, wished I was lying on a bed with cucumbers on my eyes, and wondered where else her free spirit would take her.

We likely will not cross paths in the coming weeks, fellow parent, but it comforts me to know I am far from alone. The first day of school I’ll be taking the obligatory new outfit photos and cooking the first-night-back dinner and sharing with you, I imagine, a mixed bag of feelings - relieved that we pulled off the first day, happy to have more time for my own pursuits, and sad knowing that my child who ends the school year next June will be much changed from the child in the first-day photo.

Ann Bergman, Editor/Publisher
abergman@seattleschild.com

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