As the days of July counted down to August, anxiety bloomed, hitting full steam when the calendar officially hit the eighth month. The days were shortening, and even as the heat rose, darkness came slightly earlier each night. My favorite season was winding down. By the time September and Labor Day arrived, my mood had shifted to fearful anticipation. The “Sunday night scaries” had evolved to September Scaries.
Most of my life has revolved around the September-ish back-to-school schedule, from my school days to those of my children. Reflecting, I count barely ten years from the end of my academics to the beginning of my eldest son’s. The last almost 30 years have been ruled by calendars and planners that begin with September and run through June, with summer months as an afterthought.
And while I’m not done yet, I foresee only two more of these seasons – packing up my youngest for college. Of course, it’s different than primary and secondary school and even that first year of college. At a minimum, there are fewer forms to fill out, and I no longer stock up on notebooks, pencils, and tissue boxes for the classroom.
However, there’s still stuff to do: planning, prepping, shopping, computer and tech repairs, last-minute doctor’s appointments and filling prescriptions, final resume reviews for career planning, and dealing with transition nerves.
I became curious whether the September Scaries would depart when my youngest finished school. Sensing an opportunity for unofficial and unscientific polling, I asked ten mothers on the other side of this era. And the answer is yes and no.
Nine out of ten mothers without children in school (aka moms without students) reported feeling regret with the advance of September and Labor Day. Only one mom said she’s “over it,” and school days have no bearing on her life – other than the traffic. Five of the other nine moms without students still lamented the oncoming back-to-school season. For these moms, a year continues to be measured by the school calendar, with September as the beginning, though their children are long done with school.
Feelings about the dwindling days of summer, however, were nearly unanimous (back to nine out of ten)—in wishing summer wouldn’t end. Warmer weather, vacation time, a slower pace, and an outdoor lifestyle were just some of the reasons that emerged in my discussions.
September (or post-Labor Day) signifies a return to the hustle and bustle of “real life.” Projects were delayed, hearings were postponed, job searches were deferred, and vacations were scheduled in August, which means work demands return with a vengeance in September. Maybe it’s the adult equivalent of back-to-school.
Put another way, it’s back to reality. I am facing articles that have not been written, projects that have not been started, and books that have not been read. Not a single flower was planted, nor was a closet cleaned out. On the other hand, did I have fun? Did I get lots of outdoor exercise? Yes, and yes.
Perhaps it’s no wonder I get a pit in my stomach as summer wanes; I’m behind before fall even arrives and have tons of catching up to do. But soon enough, I won’t be able to blame the back-to-school season. I will become a mom without students sad about the end of summer.
