They grow up so fast, says everyone. He’s so big, they marvel. Look how grown up he is now. And my heart hurts.
It’s been an emotional week for me. My oldest son, my first baby, started middle school today.
It was not long ago — not in my (admittedly addled) mind, at least — that he was a little bundle of worn-soft white hospital blanket, tipped in the familiar pink and blue stripes, his eyes clear and blue, his eyebrows already betraying the expressive face he would grow into. He was the toddler getting his first haircut. He was the preschooler who had no problem diving right into the play-doh in his classroom, who didn’t cling to my legs, who didn’t need me to stay.
He wasn’t an easy baby, an easy toddler, or an easy child. He’s always been a challenge. But he has grown into a more reasonable challenge; he’s grown into a child I am proud to parent (a relief I cannot articulate, and a relief I hope I still have nine years from now when we are past his teenage years). Now his pudgy legs are impossibly long, and his once-doughy feet arc gracefully like an adult’s. His round face is shaped by angles and planes. Only the clear eyes and the dynamic brow reveal the baby I once watched for hours on end from the navy blue recliner in my bedroom so long ago.
Last night, I labeled his folders with him. I checked off his supply lists. We went over the bus routes he would take, and we decided on what he would wear. While we prepared for his first day of middle school, his youngest brother lost his first baby tooth. His baby sister struggled to maintain her composure because she is getting a baby tooth. His middle brother, who cannot possibly be old enough to be starting fourth grade when he was once my baby too, built and played with a Lego set all day. I resisted the feeling that we should DO SOMETHING because it was the last day of summer, and we instead had a quiet day at home.
I did not feel ready for today to come. I do not feel ready to have a child in middle school. I’m a huge ball of nerves, anticipation, and grief for the baby that is now definitively not a baby anymore. I’m dreading the changes that will come with puberty that might make him look even less like my baby. I am hoping that the world will be good to him, that this transition will be smooth for him, that he will not get on the wrong bus or be so mixed up in the cafeteria that he doesn’t have time to eat.
I am a middle school survivor, so I know what lies ahead, and I also know that I probably don’t even know everything that lies ahead because it’s not the same as when I did it thirty years ago. What I do know is that middle school is the beginning of self-doubt and overwhelming emotions and gymnasium dances and pain that lingers much longer than that of losing or gaining a tooth. What I remember from that time are the acute pangs of insecurity in the P.E. locker rooms when I knew I was much more awkward and naive than some of my already bedazzled peers, the devastation of unrequited crushes, and the tedium of navigating the social hierarchies of the cafeteria. I remember never feeling sure of foot or confident in my stride.
I know that middle school is the beginning of something big and the end of something sweet, and I’m not ready to see my little boy change that much. I’m not ready to see him hurt, and I’m not ready to see him lose that sheen of clueless confidence for middle school insecurity. I know it’s time to move on, and I know that the emotional turbulence of these tween years will hold a sweetness all their own, but I still feel like someone is pushing me off the high dive. I’m beginning to feel the tug — the need to let go, the turn in the road where I can’t see ahead — and I’m not ready. I’m not ready, but I know I need to move forward anyway. So when I dropped him at the front of the school this morning (because we missed the bus — winning!), I gave him a high-five and a big smile. “This is going to be great,” I said as confidently as I could muster. I didn’t even cry.
When I picked him up at the bus stop today at 5:15 PM — thirty minutes later than the bus is supposed to arrive once the schedule evens out — there was no big smile on my son’s face. There was exhaustion, and maybe deflation, etched around his eyes. “So?” I asked when he tumbled into the car. “How was it?!”
I saw him collapse into his seat in my rear-view mirror. “Let’s just say I now know the inspiration for Guns ‘n’ Roses’ ‘Welcome to the Jungle,'” he replied. [Sidebar: My son referenced G’n’R. We’re obviously doing something right.]
Turns out he sat by himself at lunch, he made no new friends in his classes. “Middle school is not a time to make new friends,” he said to my middle son gravely. He had a long, crowded bus ride home. I felt like the boy I dropped off this morning was not the same one I picked up this afternoon. The boy I brought home tonight seemed to have bitten the apple of Knowledge. He exuded some new, less optimistic understanding of the world. As we walked from the car into the house, I thought he might even start crying when I gave his shoulders a non-embarrassing squeeze. I know, I wanted to tell him. I want to cry too.
He will be okay. He is ready, and he can do this, and it is going to get a lot better than it was today. That doesn’t mean that this is going to be awesome. Growing up can kind of suck sometimes — for kids and for parents. As much as I want to protect him from any kind of hurt, I also know that it is necessary to have growing pains to grow. I know how stressful a middle place can be, caught as I am in the tension between aging parents and small children, perched on the edge of 40. My son is in the middle place now too, beyond the innocence of young childhood and not yet to the more solid footing of high school. I guess we can forge a path through this particular jungle together. Here we go.
Oh Sweet Child Of Mine, Just a little Patience…
See what I did there?
Middle school is not easy. It never has been and it never will be, I suspect. You’ll both get through it.
And then you get to do it three more times!
Sorry.
Allison, that’s absolutely beautiful and wonderful. (First time I’ve read your blog.) He’ll be fine, coming from your family! Best wishes to you both!
Oh, ALLISON. I’m bawling at my desk. I’m not ready, either, but it occurs to me we NEVER ARE, right? Devastation and tedium, and the apple of knowledge. Oh yes. That’s it, right there, the losing of a certain sheen of childhood and diving into something else. Hopefully this will also be the beginning of the other side of that apple bite, which is to say the first taste of knowledge, which I’m certain he will be as excited by as you and I both surely were. I can’t read this without wishing he and my G could be friends, compatriots through this passage, a safe place. I’m thinking of you all. xoxo
Oh Allison, I hate that he had a rough first day, but let me give you some hope for the next few weeks. Elise came home the first few days of middle school with no friends – no new friends, no friends from elementary who she felt she could hang with, and yes, sadly, eating by herself in the cafeteria a couple days. It broke my heart. Within about a week or two though, she found a fabulous group of friends who she now laughs hysterically with at lunch each day. She sat with an old elementary friend one day, and her new friends jokingly called her “a traitor”. She beamed as she told us this. Her self-esteem has soared. Each night at dinner, as we do our “what was the best and worst part of your day”, the best is always something funny with friends in the cafeteria, something funny with friends in band, or the past two days have been a boy who flirted with her. 🙂 Even though I’m not quite ready for boys, I love that they are giving her attention and she is glowing from it. I know I’m only a month ahead of you in middle school experience, but I can tell you from my month of parenting a middle schooler that it can get LOTS LOTS better after those first couple of rough days. And the Guns and Roses quote… AWESOME.
Oh my…. this is a scenario I dread! I’m sure it will get better, right? This is beautifully written, as always. The “loss of innocence” motif (real or imagined) always hits me hardest. Right in that place in the pit of my stomach that always makes me cry.
Beautifully written. I am in tears, praying for you and your family…knowing i’m not too far behind you.
So your last two posts (that I read) made me cry… hard. (The other one quoted “Landslide.”) And I hate to cry. And I do it easily. So knock this shit off, and I mean it. 😉
This part will haunt me:
“I am hoping that the world will be good to him.” Nothing sums up our hopes more than this.
I hate you a little.
I see that I accidentally made that about me. And I apologize. But I’m going to need some of your dry sense of humor soon. 🙂
Oh gosh. I hate middle school. Allofit. I know he’ll be fine…but still. Hugs, mama. xoxo
Wow. I am always surprised when parents just accept middle school as painful, stressful and a “jungle”. (Look how many have commented “I hate middle school”) My son begins middle school in a few weeks and we truly spent years and all of our (limited) resources planning for his schooling. He is now transitioning from his current elementary school to the school’s upper campus. Yes, it is that wonderful type of school where kids engage in hand-on learning, classes are small, social development is valued, and teachers form extremely close relationships with kids. I am so confident my son will not describe it as a jungle. Yes, these years ahead will contain emotional and social growth, but his environment will support and enhance and not add stress to this growth. Parents, your children do not get to “re-do” these precious years. Why don’t more people consider alternatives to their local schools? Believe me, it was not easy for us and we have made many sacrifices to send our children to schools we believe in. Elaborate vacations, summer camps, and even our current housing have all taken a back seat to education. I really just don’t understand this attitude that middle school growth should be painful and stressful. I know my son’s years will be filled with joy, excitement for learning and continued friendships. I am thankful we researched and planned ahead to give him this best gift of all.
Kelly, My kids go to an alternative middle school just like you describe. And you know what? It’s still a grind, simply because of the developmental age of middle school students. Don’t get me wrong, I hope your child’s middle school experience is every bit as delightful and affirming as you have predicted. Just don’t be shocked if even the prettiest hallways turn into the very same jungles once that school bell rings.
Yes, I would be shocked. But, I’m sure I will have no reason to be shocked. I’m sure there will be developmental changes that come with the age, but I do believe the atmosphere and values of a school can positively impact kids’ growth. I’m very familiar with our school, the parents and the teachers. I’m confident the experience will not be a “grind”. And I think you misunderstand- it is not at all about pretty hallways, it is about the values and the approach to individual children. I would never describe my kids’ school experience as a jungle and it saddens me to think people expect this to be the norm. This is what bothers me about the piece and the comments. People have bad memories of middle school so they just accept this as the norm due to the challenges of this age?
Kids shouldn’t have to be “middle school survivors” and parents shouldn’t have to “forge a path” through the jungle. I find that a terribly sad and depressing outlook for the education of our children. There is a lot of great writing out there by experts on adolescents and middle school education. There are truly wonderful schools, schools that all children deserve.
Kelly, First of all, thank you for reading and for taking time to comment. I appreciate it.
But I never attributed any of my son’s first-day issues to the school itself, and that is because he is attending a truly amazing, remarkable school. It is a Pre-IB magnet for math and science, and it has some wonderful teachers and a great administration. I am thrilled with the people my son will spend his days with — both adults and children — and I am excited about the opportunities he will have there. Perhaps I should have mentioned that in my post, but I wasn’t thinking about that last night.
I love my son’s new school, and I think he will too, with time. I have never heard anyone do anything but rave about the school. Still, it is a huge transition from his small, suburban elementary school with one or two teachers a year to a much bigger middle school with eight teachers a semester and block scheduling to learn. I don’t think I used the word “grind,” but if I was going to, it would be to describe a long day, a bus ride, and the mental gymnastics of more classes and homework than he has ever dreamed of in his life. But that’s not because the school is not a great one. And I think the “jungle” analogy was to him more about the bus ordeal of the first day (just general people not knowing where to go and what to do). I made it about school in general.
I also agree with Jessica that this age is just tough — and that’s what I was getting at in my post. No matter if the child is even homeschooled, the ages of 11-13 are just not easy, and social dynamics are rough. It’s just part of growing up — insecurities and friend dynamics and first crushes and hormones and puberty. That’s what sucks about middle school to me.
In any case, my son came home today lighter than he was yesterday. I think expectations have a lot to do with his mindset, and now he has accurate ones. 🙂 I have every hope he will actually love at least parts of middle school — and I bet your kids will too, because you obviously care a lot and so do I. We will make it work.
Ah, great! Thanks for providing the background information. (And I was referring to Jessica’s use of the word grind.) Middle school should be a time of new opportunities. Glad to read that you see this for your son because that didn’t come across to me as I read your piece. I agree that puberty brings rough changes. I just get disheartened when parents view the school experience as something to endure, to just get through. Wishing you and your children a great school year.
I really felt for you, Allison. This was so lovely. That ache for your child, when he’s about to off into uncharted territory — without you — is not something that I have to experience yet in its full form. But I know it’s coming. I taught middle school age kids (fifth and sixth grade) for more than 10 years. Yes, it’s tough. It is really tough. There’s a growing awareness of your own changing identity, alongside a new self-consciousness and need for validation from your peers. There will be some rough days. But from what I’ve seen — and I’ve pretty much seen everything as far as the range of middle school experiences — the vast majority of kids who have a loving family behind them and a strong sense of what’s important to them end up being okay. They really do. Usually more than okay.
I’ve been there Allison. Last year my oldest went to Middle School and it was so unsettling, because I remember – with detail – being in Middle School. I’m still friends with a lot of the same people, so it made me realized he’s well on his way:(.
Worse – was sending my last baby to kindergarten, last week. I cried all day.
Allison,
I have three kids, ages 19, 15, and 11. My youngest just started middle school this week as well, and on the first day when I picked him up he DID cry. Luckily he did get to sit at lunch with a friend, but it was an overwhelming day. It was hot, the classes were long, and he was really tired.
Here’s the scary thing: My oldest (a junior in college) is studying abroad in Japan for 8 months. She leaves on September 2. Whoa. The think that make me anxious the most is that if she is sad, homesick, has a bad day while she is there, I can’t do anything about it. Hopefully, she will ping me on Facebook, but we will not be able to text or talk on the phone. It’s just too expensive. Other parents have questioned why I would “allow” her to do this, but I am so incredibly thrilled for her. What an opportunity to explore the world at her age. She is doing what she has dreamed of doing almost her entire life. How could I not support that?
Love this post and so relate to the simple expression “middle school survivor.” That about it describes it.
Hey, I’m a teenager (one of the good ones!) that just started high school and just discovered your blog after my second day of school. I just wanted to say that your blog really speaks to me in a very special, one of a kind way. Now, this post talks about your oldest son starting middle school, how exciting! Here are a few pointers for you and your son. It will be a jungle out there, and it will get worse before it gets better, but the best thing that your son can do is to stay on top of his work, I mean ALL of it. I was bullied pretty darn bad in 6th grade because I am adopted and my parents divorced when I was 5, just make sure that when your son says “my day was fine” that he really means it; and to your son: SPEAK UP IF YOU ARE BEING BULLIED I learned the hard way that if you don’t, it gets harder. You can only hold so much in until you, well, “explode.” Again to you son, if you have a crush on a girl (don’t go “EEEEWWW!!!!” it has to happen eventually) don’t pass up the chance to tell her how you feel because, if you don’t, you don’t get another chance (just don’t go crazy, ok?). MIddle school is, to quote a play called “13!” “The best and the worst and the most and the least and the crazy and the scary and I’m standing on the edge, 13!!!!” it’s also full of triumphs and losses, laughs, smiles, tears, and frowns, but if you and your son keep your cool, you will both come out of the jungle of middle school as better people. Shoot me an email, I love your blog!!!!
My kids are still far away from this milestone (though my oldest will have one of his own next week: the start of kindergarten), but your piece hit me right in the gut – both for your son’s individual journey and for the knowledge that growing does not, indeed, come without the growing pains.
Before I became a mom and a writer, I was a teacher. To my surprise, I loved teaching middle school, perhaps even more than high school, which I usually think of as my first calling. For all of my bad memories of my middle school years as a student, I found middle school kids to be uniquely enjoyable to teach: still young enough to carry naïveté and hopefulness with them, but old enough to ask and find answers to fundamental questions. I hope that your son’s experience of middle school is a positive one and that each day gets better than the next. xo
Hi,
Loved this post as i could relate to it completely. My daughter 11 started her periods and middle school at the same time. We also moved cities and so it us a new environment for her. My daughter is often plagued with issues relating to social dynamics, crushes, sharing her crush with someone to find out the whole class is talking behind her back. Added to that is the growing work load and greater need for peer acceptance. My confident happy ‘all rounder’ child seems unsure confused and prone to meltdowns, i love her so much and just wish she navigates this phase with ease and it should make her stronger not harm her self esteem. There is a definite loss of innocence with each trial she faces, yes there are joys and new victories as well. I pray i can be her rock through this tumultuos time.
Yes, yes, yes. I can so relate, even though I have a boy and no period for him. 🙂 It’s painful to watch them go through this stage, right? Middle school is just hard. Hang in there, mama!