It's 10AM on the first day of school, and I have been awake for only about 30 minutes. I got up when I heard Justice's alarm sound, made sure he was ready for school and out the door on time, and then I went back to bed. And I slept hard. We all did. Even the baby. As a matter of fact, Jackson and Jacoby are still both asleep as I sit here typing this. Everyone is exhausted. Our exhaustion comes in the way of an extremely busy summer that kept us on the road for six weeks. It comes in the way of a little baby. It comes from having The Coach home everyday now. It also comes from Justice. That kid wears everybody slap out. He's up at the crack of dawn every morning, and no matter how hard he tries to be quiet, the entire neighborhood ends up awake too. Whether it's dropping a bowl in the kitchen, whistling his way through the house, or pounding a ball in the driveway, we are all up when Justice gets up, and nobody sleeps until he sleeps. And we are all exhausted. Except for Justice, of course. He doesn't ever get exhausted. Jackson on the other hand, has always been my good sleeper. And although I miss Justice already, I am relishing the peace and quiet I have right now.
I worry about Justice starting middle school. He is a nerd. A sweet, compassionate nerd with a heart of gold. He is also gullible, and doesn't really understand yet that not everybody means well. I worry that he will get picked on, and I worry that he won't find an appropriate group of friends to hang out with. I worry that he will get in with the wrong crowd because he's trying to fit in, and that he will compromise his values. I know it's a little early to worry about these things, he is only 11... but one wrong turn down the line can change his entire life. Joe and I talked to him briefly about a few things before we sent him off to school. Joe talked to him about bullies, and told him that if anybody was picking on him to find the nearest 8th grade football player and tell him. Oh, I forgot to mention football. After last season, Justice made the decision to stop playing. Forever. No more football. I was disappointed, but I was also a little relieved. Football is hell. It's long hours, crying kids, broken bones, and it takes a considerable amount of stamina to be a football Mom, even with a football Dad like The Coach in the house. My disappointment was because he has so much potential and he is good at it. But the older he got, the nerdier he got and he just sort of drifted away from it and drifted towards more nerd-appropriate things like math clubs and honor choir. He would have quit last season in the middle of the season if that were something that we allowed. We made him finish out the season and then told him he never had to play again. And boy was he happy. The summer trucked right along with no regret and no mention of it. The Coach was offered and turned down a coaching position with his old team that he REALLY wanted, but he turned it down so he could focus on whatever sport or activity Justice decided to play or participate in. And then, someone called from the school and said that tryouts were happening at the school that day. The Coach said "Oh, thanks for calling but Justice isn't playing football anymore" and Justice flipped OUT. He said "I WANT TO PLAY, I WANT TO PLAY!!!". And in less than ten minutes, he was ready to go and out the door. We were floored. The good news about middle school football is that it's out of my hands now. Practices are right after school, and Mom's are not welcome. Games are Tuesday evenings, not the entire day on Saturday. But this is also why I worry about him getting in with the wrong crowd. Those football boys are tough. And they are Covington football boys. If you know this area, you know what I mean. These kids learn to be tough in the streets and they are far more mature emotionally than they should be at that age because they have had to be. The Coach sees it differently. Nobody will pick on him he tells me... He is always the boy that gets done running first and circles back to run with the fat linemen, to encourage them to finish. The Coach told him that if anybody picks on him, go find the fat linemen, that they will take care of it. A football team is a TEAM, he says. I have to believe him, and that actually gives me some comfort.
I talked to him about girls. I told him that there was going to be a magical summer where the girls that he saw on the last day of school would come to school looking a whole lot different than he remembered. They'd have boobs, I said. They'd be wearing make-up, I told him. They would be different. MUCH different. And he needed to be ready for that. We discussed appropriate behavior (not staring at the new boobs, for example) and not picking on them about the make-up they don't really know how to put on just yet. They are also vicious hormonal animals in hiding, I said. You never know when they may strike, so don't pick on them. It will end badly for you, I said.
"Don't make eye contact with them" is what I really wanted to tell him. That they are like the sirens of the sea. One look and your soul is lost to the sea forever. Haha.
Here is a picture of my boy, ready to get on the bus. Big change for this year. Belts. All shirts must be tucked in and the belt must be visible. Nothing worse than being as tall and skinny as Justice and then having to actually tuck in your shirt. Poor little feller.
Man is he skinny this year. Typically I don't give him his meds in the summer so I can fatten him up for football. Well, since I didn't think he was playing this year, I didn't do that. So he goes into football at a whopping 70 pounds. He better run fast. You only get tackled if you get caught, The Coach tells him.
See that Abercrombie and Fitch shirt? He really surprised me with this. Remember the controversy about the sizes? How the bigger gals couldn't wear the clothes because the sizes run so small? And then the CEO said he doesn't want fat girls wearing his clothes? Well, I had purchased Justice a bunch of clothes from there before that happened. Being the sweet kid he is, I figured that he wouldn't want wear them after all that hit the fan. I was prepped to FORCE him to at least wear the jeans, because those clothes aren't cheap and I was getting my money's worth whether he liked it or not. Well, that was not a problem. He couldn't have cared less that the big girls weren't able to shop there. Not his problem, he said. I was a little shocked, but whatever. I have bigger battles to fight than whether he wants to wear A&F or not. One of the plus-size hormonal sirens of the sea will give him a fresh new perspective on whether he ought to be wearing the shirt or not, and it will serve him right.
And you may be wondering why Jack is home sleeping and not at school? After much thought, soul searching, and consideration, I am keeping him home one more year. He is not ready. Not academically, and not socially. He will be much better for it next year when he is a little more mature. I took him to the school and we both spoke with the Kindergarden teachers, and they agreed with our plan. We plan to start our new school year next week. He missed a lot of school with me last year during my pregnancy when I was so sick. We have a lot of catching up to do, and we are just going to start from square one and move forward at his pace.
And now, my babies are up and its time to get into my typical school-year routine.
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