This morning was tough, man. There was fighting, yelling, “I’m telling!”s, crying, whining. Oh getting back into a morning routine is so fun, isn’t it?

Yesterday on the walk home from school I absolutely could not get a word in edgewise—they needed to tell me about their teachers (“Mr. Lee is, by far, the coolest teacher I have ever had and Mama, get this, he is A MAN!”) and the friend Isabella recognized from camp and about Emily’s new locker (“6th grade locker! Oh yeah, baby!”). After getting two AMAZINGs and one PRETTY GOOD, I was feeling pretty happy and super relieved.

I worry about these three kids like it’s my job.

Oh wait.

The pouring rain on the first day of school turned yesterday morning into a bit of a gong show. Parents dropped their kids at the entrance to the gym and, well, just left. So, I didn’t get to see their teachers or size up the other kids in their classes. I just…left. It was a strange feeling, just leaving them there. This morning, though, I was able to hand-deliver each child to the appropriate drop-off point.

And it was at about that moment—looking out at a giant black-top schoolyard where a gaggle of kids all seemed to already know each other—where I was transported back to my first day of high school where I was in a strange building in a strange city with, well, strangers. Who will I eat lunch with? Who will I hang out with during my free periods? Will I like anyone? Will anyone like me? Am I wearing the right clothes?

I have seen Mean Girls too, you know.

No child of mine should ever have to eat lunch in a bathroom stall.

No child of anyone’s, actually.

I had enough anxiety this morning for all three of my children that my yoga pants felt like that pair of jeans that hides in the back of my closet, the ones I will never again fit into.

And then,

before I knew it, three adorable-looking girls (no Regina George in sight) came and grabbed Emily and ran off with her. I didn’t even get a good-bye from her, just a giant smile. “I got this, Mama.”

before I knew it, Josh was talking to two 5th grade boys and one gave him a friendly fist to the shoulder.

before I knew it, Isabella was standing her line with a little girl who was admiring her choice in cowboy boots—and then Isabella admired her cupcake shirt right back.

So now it seems that I’m the only one who needs to make some friends at school.