Here we are, a couple of days post graduation. Nothing has really changed. Sunday was filled with housework, laundry, grocery shopping and yard work...all a typical Sunday.
Monday we got up to go to work, including the youngest who started his summer job working at the Rec Dept...the very same place my husband worked over summers. Our oldest headed to his summer internship to teach art to 4th-7th graders.
Graduation was hot. The gym was packed and the kids looked miserable for the heat, but elated for the reason to be there. Our boy bucked the system. He wore shorts. They were told at graduation rehearsal to dress up...that this was a community event. He was having none of that. I tried to get him to dress up, but on Saturday I caved. What were they going to do, not graduate him? I was pleased to see a handful of other boys bucked the system too and wore shorts....the girls, I assume were wearing dresses, but for all know could have been in shorts too. Except that one girl that no one seemed to know that had on 5 inch heels that could have belonged to an outfit with a feather boa and possibly a stripper pole. Sorry. I just call it like I see it.
We were lucky enough to have a friend save us seats and get really good placement in the gym. And yes, we skipped the line. Sorry Lori. We saw an opportunity and took it, only because we knew we already had seats.
We watched a mom freak out when someone else was saving seats (not for us), and was agitated she couldn't sit at that very location. I'm guessing that she may have been shoe chick's mom.
We realized that some moms out there were dressed to go to the club, and some dads, a game. After eight years of high school, we dressed to be comfortable. Four years ago we dressed up, and we sweated our asses off. This year, there were no pretenses. Our boys are very laid back and they couldn't have cared less what we wore. We are who we are, and if people don't like it, we don't care. Let's not even get started on the water delivery system. I could unleash on that.
We caught up with friends that we don't see often, but talk to all the time... there were lots of hugs and high fives because frankly we were all in this together.
I thought I was going to be an emotional wreck. Our baby, finally graduating high school. It's not that we didn't think he could do it. That was never an issue being in the top 20% of his class. He's grown so much over the last few years from being a shy and emotional child, to one that doesn't take shit from anyone, especially his classmates and teammates. When the kids were ready to get their diplomas, the crowd was asked to refrain from clapping until the end. When he walked the stage, low and behold my very own husband yelled out to him and the crowd laughed. Sorry administrators, you really didn't think he'd keep his mouth shut, did you? You are lucky he didn't start a chant during the teacher speech, knowing full well the chosen class speaker wasn't allowed to speak because he's done it too many times before.
I didn't cry through the entire ceremony on Saturday. I cried when our oldest walked that very stage four years ago. What does that mean? I have no idea. Maybe subconsciously I'm saving all my tears for August 11th when he leaves for college.
I did, however, cry after graduation was done and he had his diploma and was outside taking pictures with friends. It wasn't until the very last picture that I broke down. It was with a girl that he was in grade school with, and the very girl that was on his first soccer team.
So now what? Summer will be filled with college orientation, a dual graduation party next weekend, an 18th birthday, trips to the cottage, shopping for college, and finally the baby flying the coop. It's already June 14th, and soon we will be making those weekly trips to watch him and his new football team hit the field. By August 11, he'll be gone. By August 21, the older one too. By August 22, the new norm. Lower grocery bills, less laundry, no school pictures, no yearbook order forms, no refilling the lunch account, no early morning reminder to sign permission slips, no watching of football practices or prepping for standing for three hours taking pictures. No more banquets. No more progress reports. No more rushing across town in hopes to make it to the meet on time. No more auto phone calls that get deleted before listened to, and no more reminders that this is "Mr. Coyle, Dean of Students.... your child was absent for one or more periods today"... For those of you that are left, enjoy this year. It will be over before you know it. You might see us at games if the urge hits.
No more. That's a good thing. On to bigger and better boys.