High School...Times Two! (gulp...)

Big Friday goings-on to report from...Camp WestEnders. (I've decided we might as well call it that, at least through the weekend, until  it's all "back to the salt mines"--I mean "academia"--right? I think it projects a happy, upbeat vibe....but somehow I don't think the kids are buying into it. Oh well, can't say I didn't do my part to try and stave off the End-of-Summer blues and boost Rah-Rah-for School morale around here...)

Anyway, as I was saying, somehow we had two major activities scheduled for today: Freshman Orientation for Riley, and Senior Portraits for Derek. ('Cuz, you know, why not just go ahead and strap their mother in, on her year-long Emotional Rollercoaster ride, right from Day One? Ay yi yi...) For the 9th grader, there wasn't much preparation needed...we got a few emails from the High School with details about the itinerary/timing/etc. And let's not forget the phone call from his student guide, called a Tiger Link, who'll be shepherding him through his tour...information session...and apparently "fun and games" if you believe the pre-event hype. (Riley took this with a healthy dose of teenage skepticism, as recommended by his jaded older sibling. Siiiighhhh....proving that there are both benefits AND drawbacks to having a brother who's gone before you and experienced it all...)

And then there was the time-honored tradition of having one's Senior Portrait taken--a rite of passage, if you will, as it captures on film your 17-year old self, however you'd like that person to be remembered. Furthermore, this is something that takes time to plan, and should be approached with great care for the results, as they'll be displayed on your parents' and grandparents' mantels--not to mention in the yearbook, for crying out loud--forever. In fact, the brochure that arrived in the mail weeks ago with Derek's appointment time suggested that one should bring "multiple outfits, props, and accessories" to personalize the experience. Ohhh-kaaay.....I read that out loud to my son...then he and I shared a side-splitting howl about how far away from reality THAT scenario was...or as he put it succinctly, "Um...I'm not a girl...and I don't care...at ALL!"

I could see where this was rapidly heading, so right from the start I jumped in to steer the bus back on course. "You could pick out something sporty," I suggested--which got me a side-eye and exasperated snort. So I got to the heart of the matter: "Well, I'D like you to wear one nice set of clothes." Before I could continue, he evidently thought it'd be best to just nip this conversation in the bud by conceding, "I'll show up in whatever you want me to, because you're the one who's going to look at this picture for decades, not me!" Hmmm....DEAL! (That was pretty easy...once again, thank goodness for low-maintenance male children, dude...)

As the actual photo date drew closer, we refined the wardrobe to "khaki shorts and a polo, with a dress shirt and pants in reserve" as the final options. Since his hair is too short to even recommend brushing beforehand, I settled for advising him to make sure his glasses are clean, and figured my work here was done. Husband, surprisingly, actually took it one step further, counseling Derek to practice smiling in his bedroom mirror, so he could summon a natural expression on demand in front of the camera. However, I believe it goes without saying that Derek was never, in a million years, going to follow-up on this little gem. Aaannnd, hopefully the proof in the....proofs...will be satisfactory to all. Or, worst case scenario, there's always make-up day, I suppose? We'll just (all) keep our fingers crossed that no one has to go through nonsense this a second time...

As for the OTHER calendar item, last night I warned Riley that, if I was going to be driving him anywhere first thing in the morning--and also sitting through yet another Parent Meeting--we'd be making a detour for me to pick up coffee on the way. Now, keep in mind that Riley is the member of Team WestEnders who MOST prefers to be...not just "on time" (which frankly is good enough for me, on the rare occasions that I actually achieve it, that is) but rather "as early as possible". So it turns out that, during our ever-so-slight deviation from the most direct route to the school, Riley began texting a pal about how his mother took him "5 miles in the wrong direction" and we were going to be "15 minutes late".

However, he was busted shortly thereafter, when I ran into his buddy's mother, who happens to be MY friend, and she laughingly told me all about it. (Consider that your first lesson of the term, kiddo: you have more parental eyes on you than you know what to do with...you're welcome!) Oh, and we strolled in EXACTLY when the program was starting, and missed nothing whatsoever...and there was java...so it all worked out beautifully.

Then we dutifully listened to the introductions, the overview of the day's agenda, blah blah blah...before they called for the Freshmen to follow some of the Tiger Links out of the auditorium to commence with the...shenanigans. Unable to resist a brief moment of feigned drama, I sniffled loudly, threw my arms around Riley and proclaimed, "Bye, sweetie! Have a good time! See you later! Don't get lost!" He staunchly endured my silliness, but muttered under his breath, "I don't know about this...it could be...another Hamanasi!" (The name of our Belizean resort, cleverly used to compare his current situation to some of the tribulations he suffered towards the end of our Central American adventure. Well played, buddy....and congratulations...I think that just became part of Team WestEnders lexicon...)

Meanwhile, I'd run into the other mom I mentioned before, who'd ratted out Riley for his digital complaining--and after a quick glance at the remaining topics that were going to be addressed in subsequent speeches from various teachers and other faculty, we agreed that we'd probably already heard the whole spiel, from going through the process with our older boys. So we chatted for a while instead, then just...took off. (So...rebellious! It felt like playing hooky, I tell ya...)

In the afternoon, when it was time for Derek to take his turn in Senior Pictureland, I sent him back to the school with the dual responsibility of "saying cheese" and retrieving his brother. Both then returned for the day--one having successfully located all of his classrooms, spent some time catching up with friends, gathered some valuable intel about his new institution of learning for the next four years...and eaten complimentary Jersey Mike's sandwiches provided by the PTA. Oh, right--and the other one, when quizzed about how his Senior Portrait had gone, shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "Eh, fine, I guess?"

So there you have it. All that's left to do now is enjoy one final weekend o'freedom...and get (mentally) ready for Riley's first day of High School...and Derek's LAST first day of High School. And the continuation of Mom's slow ride up that first, enormous hill of the Countdown to Growing Up Rollercoaster...wheeeeee!!!!!