a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils

There is something magical about Back to School. I know the world at large views New Year’s Eve as a time for reflection, resolution making, and a plan for starting over, but ever since that first taste of back-to-school shopping at the start of first grade, I’ve been hooked. I had my hunter green, smocked bodice dress with the inexplicable Strawberry Shortcake brooch fastened tight, blue plastic Peanut Gang lunchbox safely tucked inside my no-nonsense purple backpack, and I was ready for all the year would bring. I held my head up high, rounded the corner, and marched right through the brick red double-doors toward inevitable success.

“Look out, Mrs. Thompson, Jenny is here!”

Every year. I lived for it. While my siblings would be dragging their feet towards People’s Drug like it was a death row march, I was that kid who LIVED for brand new pencils. Notebooks. FOLDERS WITH KITTENS YES PLEASE. Scented markers? Oh heck yes. I even liked that weird turquoise one. I got high — probably figuratively as well as literally¬†— from the black licorice and watermelon. (And the cherry….the cinnamon….I’m getting the shakes just thinking about all that fumey goodness)

 Mango? Seriously?
Mango? Seriously?

Coupled with my word nerdery, it’s no wonder I became a teacher. I adored setting up my classroom, organizing the folders, binders, reading stations, art supplies, you name it. I maxed out every supply budget allowed. I ordered posters from the Library of Congress with reckless abandon. Every year, it was a fresh start. A new beginning. New kids, new classes, new parents, new books, new, new, new. The possibilities were ENDLESS.

Should’ve stuck with Harrison Ford. Whatcha gonna do.

A new year is beginning, and while I am home with my babies instead of outfitting my trapper keeper or designing seating charts, I am feeling this fresh start.

I’m ready to accomplish all the things.

I can feel my heart racing in anticipation of the endless possibilities.

And maybe I should ease up on the coffee.

6 thoughts on “a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils

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