Wedding

Jack’s niece got married last night.  We’ve been saving the date for nearly a year.  About two months ago, we started thinking about what everyone would wear.  Last week, we took the kids clothes shopping.  During all this time, we got the typical teenage pushback. 

“Why can’t I just wear jeans?”  

“This shirt is sooo uncomfortable.” 

“Converse ARE nice shoes.” 

But we persevered. Yesterday, everyone had ties and belts and pants that fit.  We got all gussied up and climbed into the minivan for a 40-minute drive to the ceremony. As usual, the kids argued over who sat in the way back and who chose the music.  

We gave them a lecture about appropriate behavior and told them to leave their phones in the car.  They groaned. 

The ceremony was short and sweet, with all the right moments.  A groomsman started off the ceremony with a gag and a great laugh.  Grandpa sang the processional and his voice cracked as his granddaughter walked down the aisle with her father, who was holding it together until that moment, when his eyes welled up. The bride and groom wrote their own vows, and the groom’s sister pronounced them married to a cheer from the crowd.  It was perfect.  And I didn’t have to shoot my kids death glares.  Not even once! 

We were summoned for photos with the new bride and groom, and I got a few shots of our family while we waited.  Our two oldest, Jack’s boys from his first marriage, are grown and flown now.  It’s less and less frequent that everyone is available to get together.  Mark, the oldest, has a steady girlfriend who we all love, and it was sweet to see them all dressed up and making eyes at each other.  Mitch, the next in line, embraces his role as the family clown.  He makes everyone laugh in an entirely open and unself-conscious way.  I admire his dry humor and his openness.  Lee is also coming into his own.  He’s got a unique style and he’s beginning to lose that teenage awkwardness and project confidence instead. Cal has grown in stature, but he still has that puppy-dog goofiness about him.  He’s eager to please, and at 6’1”, he looks like a grown man. Only his enthusiasm and awkwardness give away his age. Cassie still doesn’t know the extended family all that well, so she’s a little bit reserved.  Even still, her sharp sense of humor pokes out every once in a while, and her generosity appears as she offers to grab a soda or hold a sweater as the photos get snapped. She’s a good sport about the whole thing. 

As we entered the reception, I was about to give them another warning about being appropriate and staying off their phones, when I overheard Mitch challenging Lee to a dance battle.   I expected him to get turned down.  I expected Lee to respond with, “I don’t dance, bruh.”  Instead, he started talking smack!  These two went back and forth, trash talking each other and boasting about their moves.  And when the music started, they didn’t disappoint. 

And it wasn’t just Lee and Mitch.  Mark and Cal and even Cassie got out there and that little group owned the dance floor.  It was the exact opposite of what I expected.  I thought they’d sit at their table, trying to sneak glimpses at their phones. I thought that Nana and Papa would have to coerce them into a dance or two with the family.  I thought they’d be shy and self-conscious and withdrawn.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  They were the first ones out on the dance floor.  They danced with each other, with their cousins, with their great aunts and uncles.  They absolutely cut it up.  Our whole family was laughing and enjoying their enthusiasm, and I had this crazy revelation…  

Our kids are FUN!  

Okay.  Wait.  That sounds awful.  Like I’ve never had fun with the kids.  Of course we’ve had fun.  Watching hockey and football games.  Playing board games or cornhole at cookouts.  Building with Legos.  Watching movies.  Boating and tubing and swimming.  At zoos and amusement parks and beaches. 

But last night was different.  Last night, it wasn’t kid fun, or family friendly fun.  It was just regular, adult fun.  And instead of us entertaining THEM, they were entertaining us.  They’ve ALL got razor sharp wit.  They have an affection for each other that is apparent in the trash talk and the pep talks alike.  They were engaged and engaging and enthusiastic.  

When Mitch stole the cherries from Katie’s drink, Cassie silently got up, went to the bar, and came back with a plastic cup full of maraschino cherries for her new friend.  She’s observant and generous and thoughtful, in a totally understated way. 

Katie has been the designated driver for as long as she and Mark have been together.  This summer, she finally turned 21, so tonight was her turn to drink.  Every time she grabbed Mark’s hand and dragged him onto the dance floor, he shook his head and smiled a little.  And then he danced.  He had fun but stayed sober, knowing it was his turn to make sure she got home safe. 

Mitch sang and gyrated and twerked and flirted with the camera as the photographer zoomed in on him.  He made everyone around him laugh with his easygoing enthusiasm.  His smoothness is effortless and his energy is infectious. 

Cal took his inspiration from Mitch.  He has his older brother’s energy and enthusiasm, but he’s still working on his finesse.  He claimed the dance floor as his own, taking his space with squats and kicks that resembled the workouts that have helped him build his confidence and his physique. 

Lee wore his sunglasses all night, but loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves so he could move freely and still rock his effortlessly cool look.  He bounced and bobbed to the beat, occasionally lifting one hand in the air and jumping like he was at the world’s coolest concert.  His moves matched the music, and I was stunned.  I didn’t know he had that kind of rhythm. 

I got to see a different side of all of these kids last night.  I got this glimpse of their grown-up selves.

Confident.  Responsible.  Respectful.  Enthusiastic.  Cool.  Funny.  Considerate.  Strong.  Connected. 

How incredible is that? 

September

Composition notebook.  School registration.  New sneakers.  Building tour.  Doctor’s appointment.  Hair appointment.  Nail appointment. 

Gym.  Trainer.  Football registration.  Clothes shopping. Summer reading.   Skateboard.  “I’m going downtown.  Can I get 20 bucks?  15?  10?” 

First car purchase.  Work.  Gym.  Insurance.  Registration.  Driver’s ed.  More work.  Gym again.  “Can you pick me up?” “We need pet supplies.”  

*****

They’ve all needed different things over the past few weeks, as we try to get back into our groove.  

I need things, too.  Time in my classroom.  New bulletin board borders.  Crock pot recipes.  A new planbook.  Groceries.  Gas.  Time to breathe.  

*****

We’re doing it.  We’ve all gone back for at least one day of school.  The lunches got made and the forms got signed. Everybody had shoes that fit.  Nobody missed the bus. 

And this long weekend is a bit of a tease.  We got through three days, and now we have three days off.  It provides the illusion that this all might actually be manageable.  That we might still be able to get our errands run and go for drinks with friends and have quality family time and get the laundry done on the weekends before it all starts again.  

This weekend, we will.  I did go for drinks after work on Friday.  Yesterday, I did get some shopping done and spend some time with friends.  The kids were going in all different directions; one to work, one to a friend’s house, one to shop downtown.  And when we all got back home, there was chaos and teasing and those kids made me laugh until I cried.  

I’m just STARTING to feel the pressure of being a working mom again.  In September, I feel like I CAN do it all.  I’ve had the whole summer to recharge.  I had weeks to plan the first weeks of school.  I got a bunch of projects and errands done, and while I certainly didn’t finish EVERYTHING, I’m not really feeling behind just yet. 

There’s the novelty of a new group of students.  The excitement of hitting the re-set button.  The opportunity to correct last year’s mistakes with a new group of kids.  There’s enthusiasm and optimism where exhaustion and apathy were, just a few short months ago.  

But after 22 years of making this particular transition, I’m growing a little jaded.  I’m wary and weary because I’ve travelled this road before, and I know it’s not going to last.  I WILL fall behind.  I will scramble to get my lessons planned on Sunday nights.  I will forget to sign the field trip form. I will get up at 6am to make sure I get the grocery shopping done on Saturday morning before the rest of the family wakes up.  I will leave the laundry in the washing machine for three days and have to restart the machine.  I will forget to do the oil change and miss the dog grooming appointment because I forgot to add it to the google calendar.  I will miss work because of a sick kid and I will miss my kid’s open house because I have to work.  

*****

I’m sitting on my couch, admiring the plants that I haven’t killed, which is a small miracle in and of itself.  Two kids are still asleep.  A third is playing video games.  Jack is in the kitchen, cooking eggs and sausage and potatoes.  It smells so good. As I sip my coffee, I’m mentally reviewing my plans for the day, wondering what type of family fun I might squeeze in that the kids won’t resist.  

Today, I’m just going to think about today.  I’m going to be in this moment, without worrying about all the moments to come.  Maybe there’s some sort of relief in finally realizing that it’s all inevitable.  No amount of September planning will prevent the December overwhelm.  No amount of August prep work will make March feel less dreary.  

And no amount of June exhaustion will carry through until September.  It’s a cycle.  I’ve travelled it enough to know where the peaks and the valleys are.  So while I’m here, at the top of the mountain in the sunshine, I’m going to take in the view, take a few deep breaths, and try to just ENJOY it.