Rooster posted the following on his Facebook wall:
Well, I’m done.
Yes, he was.
Oh wait. You’re probably wondering what in the world I’m talking about.
Well, in case you didn’t know, my Rooster boy entered the 12th grade this year.
As in Senior.
As in final year of high school.
Yeah.
I don’t know how that happened.
I think I pulled a Rip Van Winkle and slept through the last twenty years.
Our school district has this little thing called “Early Graduation,” which allows students to graduate early if they have accrued the required credits that the state of Florida has decided makes kids “smart enough to go out into the big, bad world.”
Two years ago, I gave Chicky the option to graduate early, but she decided not to. Good thing too because her high school soccer team went to State that year, and she would not have been able to participate if she’d finished early. However, when she went back to school after Christmas, she regretted her decision.
Honestly, she was FINISHED. That spring, she only had one academic class.
What a waste of time.
So, two years later, I gave Rooster the option. Honestly, I didn’t really want him to finish early. He had the option of taking dual enrolled classes at the District’s expense.
In the end, though, he decided he was finished mentally.
He’s been bored through most of high school. His classes have been fairly easy for him.
And so, last week, as he finished final exams, he posted the comment above.
It was bittersweet.
In fact, the entire day had a strange feel to it. The sadness began as soon as I emerged from my room.
For almost fifteen years, the kids and I have sat at the kitchen table before school each morning and read devotions.
We’ve taken turns reading from our Bibles.
We’ve read through many books. My Bible has the small notations to prove where we left off each day.
After Chicky graduated, we divided the verses in half.
We’ve read a number of devotional books, and Rooster and I had recently started round two of a book that is based on Martin Luther’s writings.
It hit me on Thursday, Rooster’s last day of high school, that this would be the last time we’d sit together in such roles.
I did not cry, choosing instead to put on a brave face.
I offered to buy him Starbucks on the way to school.
See, Rooster and I used to stop at the gas station that was located across the street from his middle school and get hot chocolates on cold mornings and donuts and other yummies on other mornings. Don’t tell Chicky, but this was AFTER we’d drop her off at high school.
It was our special time to be together.
Stopping at Starbucks was an occasional treat during his high school years.
The day went on, and I administered exams to my own classes, feeling relieved when the final bell rang.
The strange thing was that though he got finished early (it was a half day), he went out to lunch with friends (another sign of his being older), and I stayed at school to work, entering grades in a frenzied manner and prepping my room for Monday (we were going to have Friday off).
It was a sign of what things will be like from here on out.
As he’s getting older, so am I, moving along in my career as he moves along in his education.
Still, it’s a bittersweet time.
Though I’ll never stop being a parent, offering advice, or being a listening ear, the days of overseeing every single detail of my children’s’ lives are over.
After almost twenty years of parenthood, another chickadee is getting ready to fly the coup.
Well, I’m done.
Those words could have been posted on my wall as well.
We’ve come full circle.
Filed under: children | Tagged: childrearing, parenting | 3 Comments »
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