September is my new January

I am writing this post with my kids at my feet, building intricate Lego contraptions. After many, many weeks of unstructured summertime out West where my kids bonded over hikes, forts, bike rides, recycled art projects, ice cream and their first "restaurant venture", my older son went back to school last week. This left my soon-to-be-Kindergartner looking for action until his school year starts (which will be Monday-- today, for many who are reading this post). And while I felt this pull to delve back into the "school routine" once we arrived back in CT, last week slipped by with giant piles of summer mail still teetering unpredictably on the floor, flip-flops kicked off in the entry way, a back-up on laundry, and several trips to playgrounds. It was hot and muggy, like summer. But it didn't feel carefree like summer. This slightly unsettled feeling had been building, like I was neither here, nor there.

This is not how I envisioned the school year starting out.

I had this pipe dream that the year my youngest started K would be the year I hit the ground running... Launch a wellness business for busy moms! Continue to volunteer! Plan our meals! Write a meal-planning e-book! Workout daily! Heck, I planned to get in amazing shape! Keep up with facials! Brows! Nails! Figure out "my look" and clean out my closet! Spend time at the Genius Bar! Go to bed at a reasonable hour! Learn to meditate! (That probably shouldn't have an exclamation point after it, should it?...) But what's really happening? I am muddled. I am in that super weird place so many moms find themselves after staying home to raise families: my youngest is heading off to Kindergarten today, and I. Have. No. Idea. What. I. Am. Supposed. To. Be. Doing. With. My. Life. Am I supposed to go back to work? Am I supposed to relax? Am I supposed to juggle more? Less? With this momentous day on the horizon, I even invested in a (ridiculously expensive) slick business coaching program that was supposed to catapult me into some sort of "Spotlight". Instead, the program made me question my professional and personal goals and priorities even more. If only I'd saved my pennies for those facials...

I could feel my lower back tightening with every back-to-school errand. What had happened to our carefree August? How had my vision for myself gone from crystal clear to needing an entire bottle of Windex? And then my little one dreamily asked from the backseat if I remembered "Pine Hills"?

Pine Hills. The "restaurant" my kids made up out in Idaho. I was still responsible for the cooking... but if you "put your food in the wood square it will be served"...

and, after entering through the homemade duct tape and branch trellis, a cute waiter (toting an ice cream cone) promised me I could "relax in a hammock with an awesome book after dinner". And so, instead of succumbing to my own pressure to "figure it all out" before the school bus rumbles off today I am trying really hard to channel Pine Hills-- the simplicity, joy, and creativity my kids offered me. A chance to just be. A rare gift in the chaotic pace of motherhood these days. I am celebrating the truly amazing children I am sending off to school today, taking a moment to relax, giving myself a pat on the back for a job well-done so far, and embracing this transition like a resolution. It's New Year's in September for me-- and many of you out there too. Cheers.