Rituals: The Magic of Heading Back to School

From fresh school supplies to first-day-of-school meltdowns (theirs and mine)

Writing books while managing a family of three small boys may seem like it requires some hardcore magic. (I've admittedly done a ritual or two just to convince my self that I can do it!) However, successfully getting my butt in the chair to write is probably more a matter of super low standards when it comes to housekeeping (Please don't judge.) and letting my boys run a little extra wild while constantly reminding myself that those of us born and raised in the free-for-all known as the 1980s totally made it. (I'm sure there are other members of team "Moms Who Write" who handle this much more gracefully than I.)

On one particularly memorable day, I found myself apologizing to my main characters on a loop as I frantically tried to wrap up their final spicy scene, only to be interrupted by frequent requests for Nutella toast and other orders for third, fourth, and fifth breakfast. (Yes, my children are Hobbits.) As I sighed with frustration--my poor characters were getting seriously cock blocked!--I felt almost desperate for the beginning of the school year, when for the first time, all three of my kiddos would be entering full-time school. The writing that would get done! The social media that would no longer be neglected! The floors that would finally get washed! (Just kidding. That one's going to be a while.)

So, we did the end of summer rituals. We bought and organized school supplies. We bought the new clothes. We rapidly tried to check items off our summer bucket list. (Beach? Check! Lake time at the cabin? Check! One last trip to the pool? Check!) And with every item we checked off the to-do lists, I felt one step closer to writing time. To feeling Productive! (Capital P intentional.) Did I feel like a total failure of a mother for wishing so desperately for school to start? Yes. Did I feel haunted by a meme I saw recently that said by the time our kids are twelve, 75% of the time we'll have with them is over? Also yes.

First Day of School

Facebook memes aside, after being a full-time stay-at-home mom for eleven years, I approached the first day of school with high expectations. I was going to be Productive! Creative! Accomplished! I was going to rock this! Despite staying up late to read Melanie Harlow's Cloverleigh series (Two thumbs up, would highly recommend!) I dragged my sorry, tired butt out of bed at five and did some early morning yoga on the back deck. It was beautiful. When I started, the sky was still dark, the waning moon shining brightly to the south. By the time I was done, the sky was growing lighter, with lilac clouds hanging low on the horizon. It was one of those little magical moments that makes a day feel special.

I was ready.

Except I wasn't. Getting kids out the door went ok. There was minimal drama and we even had a couple minutes to spare. But as I crouched down next to my five-year old while he stood in line with his kindergarten teacher, I wasn't thinking about productivity at all. I wasn't thinking about the gloriously uninterrupted lovemaking my characters were going to enjoy. I wasn't thinking about the cleaning that needs to get done. All I could think was, "Where the hell have the last eleven years gone?"

And then I cried. (And my husband took pictures. Because he's nice like that.)

Luckily, the kids all had a good first day. They were still tired--and a little cranky--when they got back from school, but overall, it was a good day, and I was grateful. And still a little sad.

A Touch of Magic

As always when faced with emotional situations, I slipped a little extra magic into my day. I took the time to journal and pull an oracle card. (Right now, I'm using Gabby Bernstein's "The Universe Has Your Back" deck.) I've been taking Epsom-salt-and-lavender baths at night to help me sleep. I picked up a few gemstones from Ginger Birch, my favorite shop, to help ground me. And while my people were away at school that first day, I indulged in a little kitchen magic, making a giant pot of homemade spaghetti and concentrating extra hard on the bay leaf's protective qualities as I added it.

There aren't any easy answers when it comes to work-life balance as a parent. There's no ritual that's going to magically give me more hours in the day so I can chase my writing dreams and spend all the time I want to with my kids. It's messy and complicated and often requires holding space for ideas that appear to be in conflict. But it's good to know that when things get out of balance--when I feel agitated and defeated from ignoring my writing or when I have one of those uncomfortable moments where I realize I wasn't the mom I want to be--it's good to know that I have practices to help ground me in the moment and get me back on track.