The Potentially Very Scary Backpack

It was the day before school started.

That really should say enough, right?

I was going over the checklists and making sure things were in order and ready to head off with the big kids to school.

lunch boxes? check.
lunches made? mostly…
water bottles? washed and ready, check!
clean clothes ready and set out? yup.

(interrupted by email checking…see an email from daughter’s teacher…something about Meet the Teacher packet and don’t forget all those fabulous forms, change of clothes, etc….)

Hmm…Meet the Teacher packet. I don’t remember getting one.

(text husband, reminds me where he thinks he saw me put it after the insane back to school night…okay, located)

Get change of clothes ready and enthusiastically go to put them in the backpack I SWORE I’d cleaned out and made sure was ready for another year….

c r a p

I pick it up and notice it’s pretty heavy.

It’s still packed. From last school year.

::blink::blink::

I set it down on the kitchen table and just sorta stared at it.

(to be honest…I was a little scared of what might be lurking about behind those zipped up tight spaces…)

And it was at that moment I realized I’d become THAT mom.

Whatever THAT might actually mean, I’m not entirely sure.

What I know? I used to totally be that mom that seemingly had it together. School supplies taken care of by way of the handy-dandy “school supply order form” that I could order all needed supplies by simply checking a box and writing a check, and then doing a little happy dance thinking of all.that.time it was going to save me!

And I was totally that mom that made those lunches and had clothes ready and helped encourage my child learn to be more self sufficient during those school mornings so things weren’t as chaotic.

I am still that mom that color coordinates my oldest daughters clothes so that she can more easily pick things out and try her best to put them away with as little frustration on her part. Oh, and it helps her remember her colors because she forgets things easily…

(that’s a whole other blog post…)

And I am STILL that mom that makes ahead most of the weeks lunches for my daughter because she needs help in that area and I make sure she gets the needed nutrients in them as much as I can. My oldest? He’s totally rocking it on his own with his lunches. Mostly.

But, in becoming a mom of four and one of those four being a child with special needs, I’ve realized something….I’m the mom that sometimes forgets what my daughter cannot do.

My oldest? He knows to go through and empty his backpack and make sure it’s still able to make it through another year. And as long as he does so within the first month, I’m all good…usually don’t have to remind too often.

But my daughter? She needs many verbal cues and reminding. And sometimes in all the encouraging and cheering her on and hoping for more and seeing her reach new goals and do amazing, albeit small from the outside perspective, but amazing leaps in her world….well, I forget that she still needs reminding.

So, her backpack sat unzipped and unpacked all summer. And I’m nervous about what’s in there…

I’ve become that mom. Not completely scattered (although I’m sure there’s a good argument there that I absolutely can be), but that mom that has realized that there are things that take priority over others.

That making sure my kids are fed and have clean clothes and a mom that’s available versus a perfectly organized life with everything in place, is more important.

Because, let’s be honest, nothing is remotely perfect around here. I’m a constant work in progress.

So, I’m that mom. And I’m OK with it.

(sorta)

P.S.
I opened the backpack. And other than a broken fairy wand and some papers with random coloring on them, there was nothing that jumped out to eat me. Thankfully. Whew.