Today is the first day of school for MSD. I’ve been wondering how I’d feel—and how the kids would feel—watching all the neighborhood kids get their school supplies together, go school clothes shopping, and then go off on the first day. Not that we haven’t had our own preparation for the start of our fall term (which will be in a few weeks). Nevertheless, I find I do have mixed feelings. I secretly long for that felling of relief when they’re finally out the door and you come back home to a quiet—or quieter—house for the day. The days almost feel like your own. But I remember that empty feeling, too. Like someone was missing.

Then there’s that twinge of panic before our fall school begins. It feels like going to the hospital to have a baby: the anticipation and excitement for finally having that baby in your hands, but the fear and dread of actually getting that baby out. “Uh, did I really think this was a good idea?”

Yes, I did. And I still do.

I'm actually ready to just get on with it. I've prepared our plans months ago, ordered books, compiled music selections, and gathered handicraft supplies—all from the far corners of the universe. I’ve considered and re-considered how to get in all the reading for each child even with the baby climbing all over us. I sketched a routine to guide our day. I’ve organized the materials in neat bins and selected our spot to “do” school. But we have a few more weeks to finish up our summer term; we're still waiting the arrival of a few more key books in the mail; there's one last attempt to cling to summer in a trip to an indoor water park (thanks to my sister's thoughtful Christmas present); and dear husband and I have a trip to TN planned before it all starts.

So I think we’re ready. As ready as we can possibly be. But, like birthing a baby, the anticipation is just killing me.