Last day of school and it’s time to let go.
It’s time to let go of 18 little people with whom I’ve spent more waking hours than my own kiddos these last two years. It’s time to let go of their quirks and smiles, their hugs, their freckles, their silly jokes, their artwork and their scraggly shoelaces.
It’s time to let go of those indescribably delicious aha moments that keep me coming back day after day, year after year.
It’s time to let go of everything that never happened: the last 3 chapters of the read-aloud book we meant to finish, the concepts that didn’t get enough attention, those unhelpful behaviors that never got ironed out, the much-needed breakthroughs that proved too elusive to chase down.
It’s time to let go of worry for kids who won’t be having fun, relaxing summers.
It’s time to let go of reems of used up paper and supplies: two years of DRAs and benchmark bubble sheets, half-filled journals and lit. library books, broken crayons, grubby chewed up pencils and dried out glue sticks.
It’s time to let go of late nights and early mornings, of 22 minute Lean Cuisine lunches and, unfortunately, the laughter and/or rueful commiseration with friends between hasty bites.
It’s time to let go of teammates and colleagues who won’t be back next year and the sadness at watching them go.
It’s time to let go of dirty laundry, house clutter and those niggly extra pounds that have been accumulating since the Halloween party… and the Winter Party and the Valentine’s Party and the Spring Break Party and the Nervous Eating STAAR Test Week That’s Anything But a Party, and the Week-Long Teacher Appreciation Bonanza Party (no complaints, though, just sayin’ ;)).
It’s time to let go of being Mrs. B. for a bit. Time to remember how to be ‘fully present mom’ and ‘laid back wife’ and ‘wanna be fiction writer who actually writes’ and ‘just me’ again.
It’s time to let go. At least for a little while.