The start of this school year is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Exhilarating because my daughters are both at new schools, moving on to the next significant stage of their lives. I dropped the "little" one off for her first day of seventh grade and watched her shoulder her backpack and navigate across the street, eager to tackle the year and make new friends. I watched my older girl disappear between the big steel bars that gate her new high school, dwarfed by the immense concrete buildings of the place, yet strangely fitting in on this new campus.
It's terrifying for the exact same reasons as above. The girls are growing up; they aren't babies any longer, or toddlers, or children. They are people in their own right and just a hop, skip, and a jump away from their own cars, jobs, apartments, and lives. Eek.
We've done well with them I know, and they will do well. I have confidence. And I am eager to see who they will become.
But, there I sit in my car, watching my daughters walk certainly further and further away, and I return to this screen, and my own life, waiting here, which I am still in the middle of crafting.