We are right in the middle of Welcome Week at Northern Illinois University. The campus is crawling with students again, and the NIU NAV team has been out every day passing out flyers, taking surveys, hosting kickball, ultimate frisbee, game nights, and tonight – The Chi-town Classic – complete with Wiffle Ball and Chicago style hotdogs.
It’s also the last days of summer and back to school time at the Dager home. Soccer is in full swing, tryouts and auditions for fall activities are on the schedule, as well as Open Houses for two different schools. Not to mention trying to pack in a few more afternoons at the pool.
Amidst all the excitement and preparations, there have been some really funny moments.
Ben and I are realizing we are certainly not as young as we used to be. This morning we woke up early for an 8 am soccer game after a late night on campus and limped to the coffee pot amidst groans and body aches. We were a pretty pathetic sight!
This morning, Libby announced she didn’t want to go to soccer OR kindergarten. She said, “I want to be a LITTLE kid that stays at home all day and does NOTHIN.” Amen to that, girl. I’m with you.
I’m pinch-hitting as t-shirt designer, flyer and poster designer, hot dog boiler, cup cake arranger, and cheerleader for our super staff team and incredibly hard-working student leaders and fielding some serious back to school anxiety and gym shoe dilemmas on the home front. I keep catching myself staring off into space asking myself, “Who am I?”
I know the fall is a busy season for all of us. We all jump into new shoes, new roles, old jobs with new responsibilities, and old schools with completely new challenges and dynamics. It’s OK to run around in circles for a little while adjusting, gaining momentum, and figuring life out.
I won’t judge you if you show up at an early morning soccer game looking a little rough around the edges and wearing a very frumpy and old pink t-shirt. I won’t snicker behind your back if you struggle to dress your age as you jump from campus to PTO meeting. I won’t ever, ever raise an eyebrow if you tell me you washed your kid’s soccer uniforms at midnight last night. I’ll still love you if you smell like hotdogs and onions at church. And if I happen to stop by, I’ll bring coffee and close my eyes to the disaster that was once a lovely home.
Will you all do the same for me, please?
Praying for good transitions and sweet new beginnings for us all.