Saw this post on my Instagram feed and yeah, I’m gonna admit it, I am just a little bit put out that I wasn’t even asked.
Ahem, I demonstrate “#powerofshe” every time I risk dislocating a shoulder to put on a sports bra and suffer through the indignity of wriggling into compression shorts. Also, I smacked myself in the head with a 5-pound-dumbbell while attempting one-arm snatches last week AND I STILL FINISHED THE WORKOUT.
With only moderate complaining. And one scream.
If that’s not the #powerofshe, then perhaps this is: The kids start school today, ninth grade and 12th grade.
This is huge. I’m having some trouble with that.
Once upon a time, the end of a long summer made up of expensive camps and whackadoodle schedules made me do the Snoopy happy dance. Back to the routine! Yay!
Now, I feel teary.
Once the kiddos hit high school, time seems to run like in those old movies where the clock arms and newspapers spin to indicate a wicked-fast passage of time. It spirals and before you know it — poof! — your money and your kid off to college. Gone. Just like that. I know because No. 1 just finished her first year out-of-state. It almost makes you miss those super-long days of toddlerdom that were full of repetitive book reading until your voice became a croak (“A Bargain for Frances” is the longest children’s book in history) and the same TV shows over and over (I’m looking at you, Rolie Polie Olie) and over. And over.
So this year means another graduation, figuring out what comes next and bracing for more change. That might even be harder than wearing compression shorts.
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