The Last First Day of School

Monday August 29th, I sat at our kitchen table with the window open and for a moment it was totally quiet in our house and outside. I looked at the kitchen clock and it was 6:51 AM.

As I posted my yearly advice to seniors that morning, I re-read all of the advice, and I am always motivated (you might say inspired) by my friend Randy Ballard's challenge to" embrace and pursue having no ordinary moments in your year."

That's why I mentioned that quiet moment Monday at 6:51 AM. It was no ordinary quiet moment. It was after all the first day of school.

There cannot be a more stressful moment for teachers during the school year than the first day of school as you are about to head to school. Of course you are excited, but you are worried too. Despite the years of doing this thing we call school, the first day is always greeted with a bit of dread by every teacher I know. I actually think the more you know about all the things that could go wrong during the school year, the more you dread it.

Here's the funny thing, the dread disappears when you see the first student walk into your room that first day. But until you see that kid, you can get pretty consumed with thoughts of how you aren't ready for the challenges ahead.

Anyway, my advice post was up, and I was trying to take Randy's advice myself and not have any ordinary moments and at 6:51 AM in my kitchen quiet and peace had been a pretty cool thing to have on this first day.

I had risen before 5 AM to see if I could accomplish what at times seems like a Sisyphian task which is keep up with the email requests I get as our world gets more and more interested in sports. Then do the more mundane tasks of sorting my clothes from the dryer and putting them away and taking a shower.

By 5:30 AM Kathy had risen. She is like clockwork. What I would like to be like. On school days, she is always up at 5:30 AM. She is heading to bed at 10:00 pm every night. There might be a 15 minute change on any given day. But she gets the long term benefit of this routine for her students. Routine is something I aspire for in my life but struggle to keep. I am the one in the family who is up late and up early -- looking for my next caffeine fix. As I was on Monday morning.

So by 6:20 AM I had run over to get coffee at Peets in Winnetka. I happen to love getting to Peets before 6:30 AM. It's a very sparse but seemingly cheerful relaxed crowd early in the morning at Peets. Different than the all business crowd down the block at Starbucks. Sharon and Sarah -- of the occasional Raider purple hair --  know my name and regular order at Peets. Sharon who works Monday through Thursday was happy to tell me zucchini bread was available. They never know if their shipment will include banana bread or zucchini bread. I became a Peets zucchini bread fan about 5 months ago.

The clock on the car said 6:30 AM when I returned to our house. It was already 70 degrees but the air felt cool enough, the sun was out. The weather looked great to end a summer break and start a school year.

As my coffee cooled I started thinking about that no ordinary moment challenge.

Monday was not only the first day of school at North Shore Country Day but my last first day of school as a Dad.

I cried when both my boys were born. No one saw me cry. It was in a room all by myself. It was a short moment of tears and pretty quickly there after I composed myself.

There are some things in life that take you completely off guard and becoming a Dad -- both times -- was one of those for me. I know. Mom's do the heavy labor. My Dad tears were not caused by the physical pain of birth, But more just wow, I did not expect the AWE -- someness of these two moments to hit me so powerfully. It's hard to argue that the most powerful force in life is love after becoming a Dad, when that love is so dramatically given to you.

I come from a family that pretty much puts their head down and works. Sure, there are the daily complaints that everyone has and the moments when we celebrate during the year. When Tommy -- our younger son --  was born, John was just out of diapers and I said to my own Mom. "Jeeze we just got John out of diapers and now 2 to 3 more years of changing diapers." I was joking of course. But my Mom quickly reminded me that "When the kids leave, you will realize what a short part of your life having kids in the house really is."

Monday that day felt a lot closer than ever before.

Since John and Tommy's birth, I have put my head down and worked -- and occasionally complained as well as occasionally celebrated -- like everyone else when these little humans you helped create cramped your style or totally amazed you.

My Mom -- now 90 -- reminded me of this again the other day when I said to her "Monday was our last day with John (our older son)" as he was heading to China for the semester to study early Tuesday. "Don't say that." she did not want to hear about last days.

It's going to be a year of lasts as a Dad, no matter if I want to call it that or not.

Kathy and the boys always walk to school down Forest St. They walk home that way too. It's now gone on like that for 16 years. Probably mostly ordinary walks. So I thought it fitting to take the picture of the last first day of school with the two of them -- Mom and Tom -- about to walk down that street again. The walk Monday being a little less ordinary because it was the last time they'd do it on the first day of school.

So I go back to that moment at 6:51 AM before that walk happened. The morning traffic on Willow Rd. was quiet for a moment. The kitchen window was open. The wind was blowing the cooly humid air. I was about to put my head down again and push through the challenges of the school year again. This time trying to make sure that memory of 6:51AM made me remember that in our hurry to get on to the next thing that we should embrace and pursue "no ordinary moments" this year.