Damn It
Soon my house will split into three different chapters.
My baby is starting 5th grade.
My middle child is officially beginning 6th grade homeschool, which means one of us is about to become a student, and the other is about to become a coffee-powered, Google-searching, “Did you check the directions?” educational consultant with the patience of a saint… or the attitude of a raccoon trapped in a trash can. Jury’s still out.
And my oldest?
She’s packing up and heading off to college.
Nobody tells you that one day you’ll buckle a car seat for the last time, pack the last lunch, sign the last elementary school permission slip, and then suddenly you’re pricing dorm room organizers and pretending you’re not emotionally unraveling in the Target bedding aisle.
How is it possible to be celebrating and grieving at the exact same time?
I’m so unbelievably proud of all three of my girls. They’re becoming exactly who they’re supposed to be.
But can we also discuss the absolute audacity of time?
Because I’m pretty sure they were all toddlers approximately six business days ago.
One minute I’m cutting grapes into microscopic pieces because apparently whole grapes are public enemy number one…
…and the next I’m saying things like, “Don’t forget to check your college email.”
Excuse me? Who approved this timeline?
This year is going to look different for all of us. One child finding her independence. One finding her own rhythm through homeschooling. One taking another step toward growing up.
And me?
I’ll be over here pretending I’m fine while aggressively buying school supplies, crying over baby pictures, and wondering why the little hand that used to fit inside mine now carries dorm keys.
Motherhood is beautiful.
It’s heartbreaking.
It’s loud.
It’s chaotic.
It’s letting go a little at a time while praying they always know where home is.
So here’s to 5th grade.
Here’s to our homeschool adventure.
Here’s to college.
And here’s to me… trying not to have a complete emotional support breakdown in the Walmart school supply aisle because a pack of Ticonderoga pencils somehow unlocked seventeen years of memories.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be crying into my iced coffee while telling everyone, “I’m fine.”
I’m absolutely not fine.
Watching my kids grow through different stages of their education feels like living several chapters of life all at once. Like the author, I've experienced the surreal blend of pride and sadness when my oldest headed off to college, while my youngest starts elementary school adventures. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions—celebrating independence, adapting to homeschooling routines, and treasure moments in the chaos of parenthood. One unexpected trigger for deep reflection was standing in the school supplies aisle, staring at a simple pack of Ticonderoga pencils. It’s funny how such mundane items can unlock a flood of memories—from cutting grapes into tiny pieces to packing countless lunches. These small rituals marked the beautiful but fleeting phase of childhood. Homeschooling, as described, truly reshaped our family dynamic. Becoming a coffee-fueled, googling educational consultant isn’t easy, and patience is definitely tested. But it taught me resilience and creativity, adapting to each child’s rhythm and needs. This personalized approach also helped us stay connected amidst the numerous transitions. Letting go feels like the hardest part. I often catch myself balancing celebration with grief—proudly watching their growth while mourning the rapid passage of time. Sending a child to college means embracing new roles: reminding them to check emails, organizing dorm essentials, and silently praying they always know where home is. Motherhood is undeniably beautiful and chaotic—filled with loud moments, tears, laughter, and relentless love. It's about holding onto memories while courageously opening new doors. If you’re on a similar journey, know that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed, to cry over school supplies, and to find solace in your favorite iced coffee. We’re all in this together, cherishing every fleeting chapter.