The countdown

For the past few weeks I have been running around doing everything under the sun in the name of school. I don’t even know how many of these things are really needed, or how many of these things I am even supposed to be attending, but I have been trying. Trying to show up on my lunch break to meet some random future teacher and then rush out mid sentence because Im late for work. Trying to attend the right meetings (yes, as apposed to the wrong meetings) for Josh. Trying to get everything lined up. Set up. Organized, if you will, and the only thing I am thinking is well, confusion.

I don’t know if I mentioned it or not, but this year is the year of everything times three. Meaning, three kids = three schools/schedules/etc etc etc etc. I don’t worry about Madison, I know she will fit in wherever she goes, shes already got a group of her friends going to this school, and already excited about who she might meet. Im not too worried about Dylan, I think he will be ok. I hope he will be ok, I suppose I should say. I guess I should say I cant worry about him, because there isn’t much else I can do, aside from going to school with him which might not be a bad idea except that then I wouldn’t be working. Kids first tho, right?

Then there is Josh, whos meetings I have tried to keep straight, and have failed. More than once. There is so much going on with him, and for him, that I cant even keep it all straight. I try. But just cant. I have learned to be ok with that. Let the pros take over, is my logic. But then they all turn and look to me, like I am some sort of pro, which I am not, and I don’t know what to say except stare blankly and nod. Whatever you think, sir. It wasn’t a response they were looking for, it was a question they needed answered. And I answer like I have no idea, because really, I don’t.

I met with his teacher a few days/week ago, met his class room and the people who will be working in there. Met them all. Like I have in the years past. Same school, different class, different teacher, different people. Its all going to be new to him this year, and honestly I don’t know how he will deal with it all. His teacher seemed nice enough, but by now I know not to go by first impressions. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt the first time, and don’t really get the best impression of them first off. She asked a few questions about him, things I could atleast pretend to know. Yes, we think he is ready for this. This first grade business.

Well. Sort of.

Its up in the air really, but he isn’t benefiting anymore from the class he is currently in, and needs a step up. That’s about all I know. I don’t know any of the big words, or terms used. I cant make it sound fancy. I don’t understand that stuff. She seemed to get that when she asked a question and I only smiled and nodded. Like a foreigner, I sometimes just don’t understand what is being said. I hope she doesn’t judge him because of me.

He will be seven on Sunday. And Wednesday, he will be off on his first day of school. They all will be. Some are more ready than others, and me? Im ready for it to get started, because the whole pressure of starting school is too much.

I don’t know how he will do, because there are a lot of things he cant do. I don’t know if he will succeed. I don’t know. I don’t even know why I have him ½ the time. But I do. And I want the best for him, I want it for all for all of them, and I just cant worry anymore about it. Because the meetings are over, things are finalized. The backpacks are ready, and there was lunch stuff in the fridge. The only thing I think we will need now is a portable fridge for Dylan because I don’t think one bag is going to be enough.

Until then, all I can do is hope for the best. And wait and see.

Because this worrying isn’t getting me anywhere.

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