How to Start the School Year Off Right(ish)
Every August, I become a woman I don't recognize.
I buy the good snacks.
I organize the pantry.
I purchase approximately 47 glue sticks because the supply list says 12 but Costco has convinced me we're preparing for some sort of national glue shortage.
I envision peaceful mornings where everyone wakes up refreshed, eats a protein-rich breakfast, remembers their water bottle and leaves the house five minutes early.
Maybe there's music playing.
Maybe I drink coffee while it's still hot.
Maybe someone says, "Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate everything you do."
And then school actually starts.
By approximately Day 6, someone can't find a shoe.
There's an unsigned form on the counter that was apparently due yesterday.
The water bottle is still in the car from Friday and smells like something that should be reported to the CDC.
And I'm standing in the kitchen at 7:42 a.m. yelling:
"WHY AM I THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS HOUSE WHO KNOWS YOU HAVE SCHOOL TODAY?!"
Signed,
Every mom of a young person
Welcome back, moms.
We've missed this.
But here's the good news: starting the school year off "right" doesn't actually require becoming the CEO of your child's entire existence.
In fact, I would argue that doing less for our kids might be one of the best ways to start.
First: Stop Being the Family's Human Reminder App
"Did you brush your teeth?"
"Get your shoes."
"Where's your backpack?"
"Did you pack your Chromebook?"
"You need socks."
"SOCKS."
"Why are you getting a granola bar? I told you to put on SOCKS."
If this sounds familiar, congratulations. You are a mother.
But there's a problem with reminding our kids of everything all the time:
They get really good at waiting for us to remind them.
If your child is capable of remembering the steps of a morning routine, start transferring some of that responsibility back to them.
For younger kids, make it visual. Grounded Growth has a free My Morning Checklist you can print and use.
For older kids?
They have phones.
The same device capable of alerting them the exact second their favorite YouTuber posts something can, in fact, also remind them that soccer practice starts at 4:00.
Revolutionary, I know.
Let Them Forget Something
This one hurts.
Your child texts:
MOM I FORGOT MY CHROMEBOOK CAN YOU BRING IT
And every cell in your maternal body screams:
I can fix this.
You can.
But should you?
Sometimes yes. Life happens. We all forget things.
But if you're making the third emergency Chromebook delivery this month, we may no longer have a forgetting problem.
We have a Mom Will Bring It system.
Natural consequences are incredibly efficient teachers.
Forgot your water bottle? You're probably going to be thirsty until you find a drinking fountain.
Forgot your homework? You're going to have to explain that to your teacher.
Forgot your cleats?
Well.
This afternoon may contain a valuable life lesson.
We're not trying to make our kids miserable.
We're teaching them:
Your stuff is your responsibility. And I believe you're capable of handling it.
Don't Fix School Before Your Kid Has a Chance To
Your kid comes home:
"My teacher hates me."
"Our group project is TERRIBLE."
"I don't understand math."
"Nobody sat with me at lunch."
And our mom brains immediately start drafting an email.
Stop.
Not because those things don't matter.
They absolutely do.
But before we launch the helicopter, ask:
"What do you think you could do?"
Then wait.
It's amazing what kids come up with when we don't immediately hand them the answer.
Maybe they need help figuring out what to say to the teacher.
Maybe they need to practice advocating for themselves.
Maybe they genuinely need us to step in.
But there's a big difference between:
"I'll handle this."
and
"Let's figure out what your next step could be."
One raises a child who knows Mom fixes things.
The other raises a child who learns how to fix things.
Please Don't Make September Your Family's New Year's Resolution
September brings out our ambition.
This year we're going to:
Meal prep every Sunday.
Lay clothes out every night.
Read for 30 minutes.
Have a perfect bedtime routine.
Limit screens.
Pack lunches the night before.
Do family dinners.
Keep the house clean.
Remember spirit days.
Volunteer.
Join the PTO.
And apparently become the kind of woman who puts vegetables into labeled glass containers.
Calm down, Susan.
Your family does not need a complete operational overhaul because school started.
Pick one or two things that would make your family's life easier.
Maybe it's a morning checklist.
Maybe backpacks always live by the door.
Maybe everyone packs their own lunch.
Maybe Sunday night becomes the five-minute "what the heck is happening this week?" meeting.
Simple systems beat elaborate systems that Mom has to maintain.
Because if the system requires you to constantly remind everyone to use the system...
Congratulations. You are still the system.
Ask Yourself One Question This School Year
When you're about to remind, rescue, carry, fix, email, organize or otherwise swoop in:
Can my child reasonably do this?
If the answer is no, help them.
If the answer is not yet, teach them.
But if the answer is yes?
Let them.
Let the five-year-old carry their backpack.
Let the eight-year-old check the morning list.
Let the middle schooler email the teacher.
Let the teenager figure out when they need to leave.
Let them experience the small consequences that teach the big lessons.
Because someday, unbelievably, these tiny humans who currently cannot locate the shoes sitting directly in front of them are supposed to become adults.
Adults who make appointments.
Adults who show up for work.
Adults who solve problems.
Adults who advocate for themselves.
Adults who remember their own damn water bottles.
And we don't magically teach all of that at 18.
We teach it in a thousand tiny moments along the way.
So here's my back-to-school advice:
Buy the school supplies.
Take the first-day picture.
Try to get everyone to bed at a reasonable hour.
Drink your coffee.
And then start handing some of this stuff back.
You don't have to run your child's life perfectly.
You're trying to teach them how to run it themselves.
Raise the adult.
Spot them. Don't stop them.
— PNWMoms
Raising capable humans. Rebuilding the village.