I am starting high school tomorrow! No, I'm not. My son is. And I am emotional and anxious. I remember my ninth grade year as clear as day. I remember the Benetton logo striped shirt I wore THREE too many times. I remember my horrible perm. I remember walking through the hallways, seeing the older boys I had a crush on- the ones who didn't like me back. I remember feeling uncertain where I fell socially. Big shocker: I didn't feel super cool. I don't think I was super cool. Wait. Am I now super cool?! (No need to answer!) I think because my starting high school FEELS like yesterday, I am feeling extra attached to my son and projecting. Just a bit. My anxiety has to be his anxiety. Of course I know what he is thinking and feeling! I am his mother. Ahhh. Here's the thing, I am his mother. I am not my son. He is not me. My jitters, my worry about what tomorrow may bring is mine. It is not his. Right. Get a grip. Jacob is this incredible kid. No, really, I swear. He is. He's adorable to look at, sweet and so decent a human. He's crazy bright- way more diligent and disciplined in his studies than I was. He is self aware and comfortable in his own not yet through puberty skin. He's that kid- the one who hands in his work FINISHED. and on time. He's that kid - the one who won't compromise who he is to please anyone else. I am still working on that part of me. Tomorrow Jacob starts high school. He will thrive- with the normal teenage boy bumps along the way I am sure. He will sleep tonight, get up tomorrow and go to high school with his head held high. And I will be nervous. But that has to be my problem. I am his mother. And he is not me.