My daughter is in high school.
My daughter left to high school.
My only daughter left home and is now in high school.
I am in high school
I mean, my daughter is in high school.
Yes, I’m having a hard time!
What’s so hard about it?
She’s in high school.
And that sometimes makes me confused and I think I’m in high school, because I wasn’t in high school that long ago. Because the 90s was only 10 years ago, right?
And to me my daughter is little and she belongs home. If I still remember high school how can she be old enough to go to high school? There’s so much that just doesn’t add up!
Was she ready to leave and go to high school? Yes! Yes yes yes. She was as ready as ever.
The question is, was I ready.
And as being a mother teaches you, life doesn’t wait until you’re ready.
I am not ready.
My son left out of state to High School (mesivta) two years ago. So it’s not my first time doing this. Sure, I fell apart then too.
So then why does it make my insides crumble as if I never did this before?!
Something is different when it’s a daughter. And something is even more different when it’s my only daughter. I love my boys to pieces, but boys are boys and girls are girls.
I know this is best for her. I know the school is a good fit for her. I know her great personality and easy going disposition will do her well while living in a dorm with twenty + girls and in dealing with the pressures of high school too.
But still my mind races.
Because I want my kids in my nest.
I want to know what’s going on every morning and every afternoon and every evening and every night. And what she ate for each meal and snack. And where her seat in each class is. And who the teachers are. And which notebook she uses for which class. And if her uniform is comfortable. And if her blanket is warm enough. And if her mattress is ok. And and and …
And I must accept it that she’s spreading her wings and jumping to the next stage… where I must watch from a distance, guide from afar and allow her to discover things for herself.
I have so much advice! I remember so much from my years and want to share it. How to study, when to study, how to make a schedule, what subjects are good and on and on.
I had my chance. This one is all hers.
I’m not ready. I’ll never be.
My daughter left home to high school, but what I’m not sure she realized is that deep in her suitcase, there’s a piece of my heart that went along too.
And the hardest part of all is remembering that this is her high school experience, not mine.