September is a time to say goodbye to all that. I learned this between 7th and 8th grade when our military family moved to Ohio. I planned to say goodbye to my ugly-shoed, flat-chested 7th grade self and into a much cooler 8th grade self more voluptuous than ever before.
That didn’t quite work out. Instead I got left with a lifelong sense that September (like a good PCS move) is a time to say goodbye to everything I have outgrown.
Here is my currently list of stuff I can live without. What’s on your September list?
PTA meetings—I only have so much time for school. The best return on my time is a good relationship with my child’s teacher. Here is my check, PTA Lady. See you next year.
Carpeting—I’ve got hardwood floors. I’ve got dogs. I’ve got open cans of Diet Coke on every flat surface. Face it, Jacey. Carpets are meant for better housekeepers than you.
Computing equipment—If I do not know what you do, Oh Mysterious Cords and Wires, I do not need to find a place to keep you. If I screw up, I can always get a new one at Best Buy.
Baseball bats—Alas, no one around here is ever going to like baseball. I thought they would, but sadly, no. Lacrosse sticks, you may stay and multiply.
Friends who make me feel tired—relationships mean everything to me. But when a person consistently makes me feel tired, that’s the signal that it is time to move on.
Competition over whose kids are more likely to go to a better college—why did my girlfriends and I spend so much time fretting over this? Kids have different drives, different strengths, different motivators. Now that I have one kid in college and one college graduate, I realize what I did and what I worried about had very little to do with the results my kids achieved. My youngest is a lucky dog without a worrier for a mom.
Being too afraid to call people for a date—When my husband is at sea, I need to talk and eat with other adults. I know people are busy. But it never hurts to ask someone to dinner at home or at a restaurant I’ve been meaning to try.
Restaurants that don’t cook better than I do—Eating out costs a fortune. Once I figure out that chef cannot create something I cannot make at home, I’m not going there any more. I mean that all you people who overcook pasta and don’t serve vegetables.
Passing opportunity because I’m scared—I keep thinking that at some point I will be a competent adult who knows exactly how to do everything she needs to do. Not so much. Just because I am pretty sure I’m going to make mistakes is not an excuse for not trying. Repeat that. From now to next September.