There is a picture of my best friend and I. On the last day of 7th grade.
I’ll find it soon (sorry Amy Marie)
We are standing arms around one another. A blond and a brunette. Skinny legged. In crop top shirts. That we traded each other for (we rarely wore our own clothes.) High waisted short denim shorts. White socks and Birkenstock sandals. Scrunchies on our wrists.
(Teenage girls… your mothers were cooler than you think. We came up with the exact outfits you are wearing today. And our mothers told us the exact same thing. Fashion goes in circles….. for decades. )
But what I remember most was that we walked home from school (well I walked to her house, it was a long haul to my house on the reservation) and we were so excited it was SUMMMER!!!
My kid came bounding up the stairs at 6:15 this morning. The last day of 7th grade. He literally couldn’t wait to be done. Because it’s SUMMER!!
He made it through his first year of Junior High. And he made it so well.
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There is an incredible difference of living through 7th grade and being a spectator of 7th grade. And I did just that. Through all of elementary school, I spent much of my time volunteering for everything in the school district that I could possibly volunteer for. Too many district committees to count. Too many school committees to count. Policies. Calendars. Boards. Committees to fix this or that in the district. Committees to encourage. Committees to award. I did it all. Everything but room mom… because, the one thing I didn’t want to do, was physically be in my kids way. I spent my time behind the scenes. But when 7th grade came…. I became invisible. I didn’t volunteer in the school or the community for one single thing. Not one thing. No cookies. No nothing. I took a year off, because I was burnt out. Because I needed a minute to become a mom of a kid who didn’t need me there. I just watched. And it was incredible. And freaking scary.
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When I was in 7th grade I got caught passing notes. To a boy. It was one of those folded notes, you know, the ones folded like origami that only a teenager can figure out. It was hung on a bulletin board. I was mortified. I also had to read aloud (something I will never ever ever ever ever be ok with since my second grade teacher told me I was a terrible reader while trying to read aloud (teachers… be very careful what you say to kids)) the only curse word in a book during class. I was also mortified. I also kind of found my place in the world in 7th grade. An athlete And academic. Both incredibly quiet. I was not a leader. But I lead in my own quiet way. And have ever since. Not because I want to….because it’s just me. I liked school. I liked sports. I grew to be as tall as I am now. Tall. It was horrible. And painful. And every girl has their thing….. but growing too quickly is really hard.
The second day of my son’s 7th grade year….. he came to me asking about edibles.
That was the start of our year.
And it has been eye opening to watch my teenager become who he is.
Quiet.
Freaking smart. Worried about grades. But not enough to let it get to him. Motivated. He’s an academic.
Kind. Doesn’t want to cause trouble. Until he gets home. Baseball is his sport (not something I could have guessed) And it’s incredible to watch him. School is big. School has been on the national news this year for unkind acts. And I thank his life has taught him better.
And he will tell you when he leaves the house… there is a rapid fire of things he needs to not be doing. 10 minutes long. I’m that crazy ass mom. But the last thing he hears. “I love you.” Always. And don’t do drugs.
7th grade is done. Summer is here. And we celebrated today with one of his oldest friends. They literally have grown from babies together. Never a fight. Except over mermaids and dancing, but that’s a whole other story.
Happy summer kids. I love you all. Have fun and may it the next couple month move slowly.
