Middle school. In many ways, it was the worst time of my life. With two daughters, I have dreaded the impending-but-still-far-enough-on-the-horizon-that-it-didn’t-seem-real middle school years. As it turns out, my firstborn is almost through fifth grade, so we’re almost there.
If you don’t have kids, you may not know why I dread the middle school years. If you were never a middle school girl, you may not know why I dread the middle school years. Otherwise, you get it. Girls are mean. Boys start to like girls. Hormones go crazy. Classes get harder. Sports get competitive. Kids are learning who they are, and experimenting with things they shouldn’t.
It’s a whole new world. A transition from childhood to adulthood. A gateway to…shudder…the teen years. Shoot me now.
We’ve already been seeing mood swings and attitudes that make me want to curl up in the fetal position and sing nursery rhymes until I forget who I am for a while. We’ve been seeing peer behavior that makes Mean Girls look like a cartoon on Nick Jr. We’ve had the preview, but I don’t think I’m quite prepared for the actual feature presentation.
We have a few more months. Maybe if I build it up in my head, it won’t be so bad. Maybe kids really don’t drink in middle school. Maybe there really is no sex. Maybe they aren’t overloaded with homework and pressure.
Well, at least I won’t be surprised.