I’ve spent more than my fair share of time in high schools over the years, arriving back first as an intern teacher only three years after I left and continuing on until two years ago when I left my position as principal to move to the central office. One thing I always said to people, especially those who wanted to bemoan the “state of kids today,” is that high school now is at its essence so very much like the high school of our memories.
Perhaps that’s what makes it both difficult and thrilling to have a highschooler of my own. I love seeing her excitement; I hate the inevitable disappointments. I wonder how on earth I’m now the mom rather than the young girl running toward her future at full clip, how I’m living the future I only vaguely imagined when I was her age.
This weekend was Homecoming. With a capital H. The parade, street party, and game on Friday night. Dinner and the dance on Saturday. The whole family joined in the Friday festivities, since DD2 and her dance squad participated in the parade and then staffed a booth selling water balloon tosses at the street party. That and the lure of the sno-cone booth convinced Soccer Boy to attend since he has never been one to turn down an opportunity to throw water balloons at his sister, particularly one which is accompanied by the chance to consume large quantities of junk food.
After a rather late night at the football field, we turned our attention to our own sporting endeavors on Saturday morning with both a soccer game and a cross country meet. Fortunately, both events started early, leaving DD1 plenty of time for essential homecoming beauty routines. We managed to take care of getting both her toes and hair done in time for her to return home to meet the friends who converged here mid-afternoon.
Lots of giggling later, seven beautiful girls emerged, ready for their photo ops. The other girls’ parents joined us for the photo session and then the shuttling began. We loaded the Suburban, and another family did the same with their SUV, and off we went downtown to drop the girls off for dinner. Adventure Guy and I got some dinner of our own at another area restaurant before returning to pick up the group–which had expanded to include several boys as well–and take them to the dance. A new set of parents helped with that piece of the journey, and, thankfully, two more sets brought home (via a trip to IHOP), landing a happy but tired DD1 and her friend who was spending the night on our front porch at 1:00 a.m.
Neither of the girls looked too happy about getting up for church this morning, but they had been anxious to participate in our church’s tradition of girls wearing their formals to the service the morning following a dance. I managed to rouse them and got the report of the evening in the process. DD1 has plenty of pictures, and, evidently, a lot of good memories from her first formal dance.
And, she looked gorgeous if I do say so myself. Sign in to the next post to see for yourself!
Somewhere In The Suburbs 