Dear school mom or dad,

I imagine you are very busy right now. Configuring desk arrangements, stocking your shelves, piecing together bulletin boards.

I also imagine that you're getting pretty nervous right now. With school opening in just a few days, or already open in parts of our readership area, you'll be welcoming a whole new group of students — and their families — into your classroom. And from everything I hear about the mounting mandates, stretched budgets and increasingly harder curricular objectives, I'm sure you're in for a doozey of a year.

I give you a lot of credit for doing what you do, day in and day out, for our kids.

But here's a confession; I'm really nervous too.v See, this will be the first year both my little girls are in school. I got to do the practice round last year, when my older daughter entered Pre-K. But now she's moving up to the big leagues...all-day kindergarten. And her little sister is off to Pre-K.

Let me tell you... they're both excited. Since school let out in June, Shelby's talked about kindergarten, seeing her friends and all the things she'll be learning. She's pretty excited about trying out music and gym classes as well... and eating lunch at school.

Sammie's excited too; but I think it has more to do with following big sis' footsteps than anything else. And riding the school bus.

And I'm excited for them. For what they'll discover as they learn, for the friends they'll make, for the artwork they'll bring home. And for that hot cup of coffee I'll drink after the bus pulls away.

But I'm nervous — it's a lot of time away from my kids. While Sam will be gone for two hours, Shelby will be gone for eight. EVERY DAY. That's a big deal for me.

And I'm secretly worried they'll like you a bit more than me. You have the glitter, the glue, and the classroom chickens. You're the gate keeper of all those colorful books in bins and you make normal Styrofoam cups into cool grass-growing heads.

And I realize that you have fifteen some-odd other students to look after, to teach, to council, to worry about when you go home. And I appreciate that.

Because, at one point or another, my girls are going to slip and call you mom.

Or need a hug.

Or color a picture of trees, flowers or moons for you that I'll have to put into their folder, and then into their backpack, two minutes before the bus comes. And I hope, when they pull it out of their backpack, you'll proudly accept it... hang it up somewhere for a few minutes. And then take it down for the next kids' artwork.

For the next year, you and I will be raising my kids, your kids — and I'm sure we'll do a great job.

I just wanted to welcome you into our family. Have a great year.

Sincerely,
Mom