The Time I Took My Kids to School During Winter Break

Winter break was about as magical as it gets. It was our first holiday season in our new home, so we spared no fanfare or excitement. After the holidays wound down, we began to mentally and emotionally prepare for going back to school. The last night of Winter Break was upon us, so we had a celebratory dinner and began our evening routine a little early so we could grab some solid Zzz's. I woke up at 3:45 am (my usual time for school mornings), then began soft lights at 5:45, and by 5:55 all lights were at 100%, and the house began to stir. I made a huge pot of chicken tinola, fresh rice, and sliced papaya from our backyard tree. I was in a great mood, ready to take on the day and whatever moods the kids would be in. The kids were also in great moods and had us all making jokes as we smoothly checked things off our morning routine. I was popping my suspenders at how smooth and efficient the house was moving. Even our youngest--notorious for leaving a trail of her things on the way out the door--had her shoes on and water jug in hand when I called the final bell for getting out the door. Right on time, we were off!

We queued up a playlist, then had final exchanges of "ask your teachers" and "please remembers" as we pulled up to the school...which was empty. No carline, no students, no cross-walk guard…no one. Did I miss something? Thankfully, one of my kids saw a teacher walking, so I hailed her. The teacher gave me a look so rich with pity, I took my hands out like a beggar and accepted her charity. It was still Winter Break. "The kids start back tomorrow," she warmly said.

I slowly pulled out of the school, but before my brain had a chance to figure out how I missed this information, my middle girl spoke up. "At least we got practice for tomorrow! And now we get to go home!" Her pleasant attitude made the entire car erupt in happy activity.

Did I expect them to complain that I woke them up early for no reason? Did I expect them to be mad that they went to bed early last night? I realized that the harsh expectations that I put on myself were projected into my predictions, causing me to armor for the worst.

There is so much goodness and positivity; why not expect more of it? Expecting the worst does not soften the blow when something bad happens, I told myself. What would happen if I could bask in tiny moments of joy or keep space to laugh when things go off-plan (and they typically will)? What would happen if, instead of bracing myself for an onslaught of upset, frustrations, or bickering, I focus on my own positive lens for the moment? What could my kids learn from the way I handle my nervous system?

This year, I want to pause more to evaluate my predictions and put energy towards managing my nervous system instead of trying to manage everyone else's.

Happy back to school to those who celebrate. May you show up on the right day with matching socks.