What have I gotten myself into?

This past spring, I applied to an Early Admission Program at my first choice law school.

Writing four drafts of my personal statement, and agonizing over word choice and sentence structure. Is this word too big? Does it sound like I’m showing off? Did I use the word ‘shaped’ too much? What about ‘morals’? Is this sounding repetitive? Does this have a good flow? It just doesn’t sound right. It paid off.

The actual interview came. I had previously bought a nice black suit for an alumni mentor banquet I attended, but it was about 90°F so I paired the jacket with a pencil skirt instead. I looked good, but law school isn’t just about looks. (Although I was recently informed that I would be surprised by just how much the field does depend on appearances) Sean drove me to the campus in Minneapolis. I told him to park on a side street because we were 30 minutes early and I would much rather sit and be nervous in my own car for half of an hour than sit and be nervous in the admissions office for an hour. (Sitting in an admissions office makes time slow down by a factor of 2, duh) Then I started freaking out. Just a little. Like maybe I can call and say I’m sick which wouldn’t really be an understatement because I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit and do you think they’ll make exceptions and just do like texting interviews? Because then I wouldn’t freak out as much and I would be able to answer their questions without them seeing what a nervous wreck I looked like. Thank goodness Sean calmed me down enough to get me to walk in the door.

Sitting in the admissions office, realizing that my hands were getting clammy, and I still had another 10 minutes to go. Then the interview before mine went over time. Oh my goodness – they must really like whoever is in there. Ugh how am I supposed to follow someone they went over time with? Realizing I was going to need to shake hands. Frantically wiping them on my skirt, as nonchalantly as possible, in case they happened to walk out of the office and see me rubbing my legs like I was freezing in the middle of summer.

Then I shook all the negative thoughts from my head, walked into the office, and nailed it. Practising my ‘Why do you want to go to law school?’ answer only took me so far,  but it gave me the confident start I needed to loosen up a bit and just be myself. I left the interview felling awesome.

2 weeks later, and a letter comes in the mail. A huge, full letter size mailer. They probably wouldn’t waste such a big envelope to mail a rejection, right? Happily, I was right. Inside, I found a letter admitting me to law school, along with awarding me an 80% tuition scholarship.

At this point, my mom says something like, “You can say I-told-you-so to anyone who doubted you, even do a dance if you want!” But that’s just not me. Besides, this was just getting in to law school – the real challenge isn’t until I actually start!

The End?

Today is filled with firsts.

 

My first day back at school.

Aiden’s first day of preschool.

Sean buying his first ‘real’ set of tools he will need as an electrician.

 

So why do I feel like these firsts just signify the end? In a way, they do.

 

Today might be my first day back at school, but this is also my senior year in college – the beginning of the end of my undergraduate career. I’m feeling overwhelmed by all the things I have and haven’t done. I’m so grateful for the experiences I’ve had and all that I’ve learned, but at the same time I wish I could stay another few years and triple or quadruple major, or just take every class that sounds interesting to me. Well, almost.

Today might be Aiden’s first day of preschool, but it’s also the end of him being my baby. I am not going to cry. Like I did this morning. After I dropped him off and was well within the safety of my suddenly silent living room. I will not tear up while writing a blog post.

Ok, maybe I will.

Aiden going to preschool means he is beginning to spread his wings and fly. On his own. Without me grabbing his hand and saying “Get down from there before you fall! Do you want to give your mother a heart attack?!” It means someone else (besides a parent or grandparent – he’s never been to daycare or been anywhere that a family member wasn’t present) is in charge of him and his behavior. This scares me. Will they know how he needs you to ask him why he’s pouting? That he [almost] always has a [surprisingly logical] reason for his behavior, but you need to take the time to ask? Will they be aware of how sensitive he is? How easily he can have his feelings hurt? We’re still working on ‘using our words’ when this happens, but sometimes he just responds with anger. I trust his teachers, but still, I worry. He’s no longer just mine, to keep hidden away and all to myself. He’s out in the world, making friends, sharing his goofy faces and funny dances, and brightening someone else’s day.

Today might be the day Sean buys his first set of tools, but, like me, this is also his last year of school. Sean, however, is more than ready to be done with school, and start working. I can’t say I blame him – he’s never been the sit-still-and-listen-quietly-while-your-teacher-lectures type. I know he’ll be happy just diving in and doing, but his first day means a significant end to a chapter in our lives. The one where we’re both full time students.

 

But with each chapter’s end comes the beginning of a new one.

 

I’m finishing my last year of undergrad, but next fall, I’ll be starting my first year in law school.

Aiden is done with being a baby, but he’s growing into a big boy. He’ll always be my baby, but I can’t wait to see the kind of boy (then man! But I can wait for that) he grows up to be.

Sean is finishing his last year of school, but soon he’ll be starting his electrician apprenticeship. He’ll still be learning, but he’ll finally be getting the hands on experience he’s been wanting. Not to mention a paycheck!

 

Despite all the ends that come along with the firsts, I can’t wait to see what the future holds with all our new beginnings.