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Alex starts 11th grade tomorrow and we're clearing up the last minute details which, for world-class procrastinators like us, means pretty much everything. Been to Staples twice, the Gap, Decathalon, and now Alex is off for a haircut. When he gets back, we'll head over to Arlington High to fix the glitches in his schedule. (We've got a new principal this year--the second new principal in three years--so cheers and best of luck, Mr. Skidmore!) After that, we'll come back home and thrash out how we're going to do all the things Alex wants and needs to do in the 24 hours available on any given day.

This is the second to last time I get the privilege of assisting in this process, at least while he's under our roof full-time. I'm not exactly sad--it's been such a revelation to raise him and that will never stop. I feel more like I did when my hand was laid open by a very sharp knife. I could see the blood gorging and the meat separated from the bone but felt no pain. There was intense awareness; of how small I was compared to the fiery ordnance of the sun, the blueness of the sky, and the odor of moist earth and fallen leaves.


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Sep. 8th, 2004 07:15 pm (UTC)
School Daze
Oh, what an amazing year this is going to be for Alex! I totally understand the last minute rush. It's always like this for Chad and me, too. Good luck, indeed, to Mr. Skidmore! It sounds like they trade principals like they change commisioners on 24 of directors of special ops on Alias!

I also know exactly that feeling of separation and clarity you describe so well. Were you outside at the time? I don't think you told me exactly how it happened. Your description of cutting your hand reminds me how awful that must of been for you, and how long it took to heal.
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