To my youngest daughter starting high school

When my oldest daughter started high school I wrote a well-worded (if I do say so myself) post about my wishes for her as she embarked on her high school adventure. As my youngest starts, I’m just mad. Mad at everything.

Why do teachers give summer homework?

Should I be doing homework?
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We Doolittles don’t do much over the summer, in fact, as our name implies, we do little. Every single year I feel like I’m yelling at someone to finish their homework and this year was no different. The road to hell really is paved with good intentions.

Tenderheart has been working on it for weeks. WEEKS!! And she kept promising she was almost done so sure so-and-so can come over and of course you can go to the fair and well sure you can sleep over at blah blahs house.

Side note: If you tell me ONE.MORE.TIME. that so-and-so hasn’t started or that blah blah isn’t even going to do it, I’m going to have to punch you in the face. I, my dear daughter, am not so-and-so or blah blah’s mom. I am your mom and want better for you.

I’m so mad at her, but I’m even more mad at myself. I’m mad that I let her go and do and text and chat and watch tv and ride bikes and work until 10 pm the night before school starts to finish it. I’m mad that this is the way the first day of high school is starting for her. She’s already nervous and my yelling doesn’t help, but nothing else does either.

So you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow to hear my wishes and dreams for her high school future while I sit here and chant, Four more years! Four more years!!

And then, Oh the places you’ll go. No, seriously, just go.

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