Tomorrow, this not-so-little-anymore boy starts jr. high school.
I can hardly believe that. He is so thrilled he can hardly stand it. I have loved watching him pore over his schedule (especially now that it is fixed and he is no longer staring at "beginning dance" 4th period which was an error that nearly brought the thrill of jr high to a screeching halt). He has loved shopping for school clothes and supplies that are "cool" enough to graduate from elementary into middle school. He can hardly wait to get going.
I, on the other hand, am apprehensive (to say the least). I am trying really hard to keep my fear and concern folded tightly and boxed up inside so that I don't dribble those feelings into him when he is just fine, but I am really nervous.
I remember jr. high.
For me, it was NOT a friendly and happy place.
I can't stand the thought of this boy that I adore having to endure some of the horrors that adolescent monsters can dish out (ok, I know not all of them -- or even most of them -- are monsters; I do love a bit of hyperbole).
I am vaguely terrified.
Thankfully, Josh is fine. He has complete confidence in our son and in his ability to make good friends and enjoy the ride. I am doing my best to glide along in the wake of his positivity. I'm doing my best to drown my trepidation and watch as my sweetheart stretches his wings and soars into a new adventure.
I do want him to be able to grow, and I know that sometimes pain is a part of that process. But I happen to adore this young man and as his mother I want to shield him from anything bad if I can. Hopefully it won't be an issue. He is very much like his father (who is rarely intimidated by anything and is great with people) and I know he will do great things in life.
I am excited to watch him grow.
(This is the part where I swallow down my anxiety and only let my "excited for you" vibe shine through.)