An influencer I follow just shared that all three of her kids are in different schools this year — and the struggle of getting everyone where they need to be. It instantly brought me back to the year I was in the same boat.
I’ve always loved summers with my kids. I was working, so it wasn’t all lazy days, but it was still a break from the grind of early mornings, packing lunches, and keeping track of three different school schedules.
I dreaded back-to-school almost as much as I did when I was a kid — wondering who my teacher would be, who would be in my class, and if I would fit in. My oldest loved school, but the rest? They were probably more like me. They loved the comfort of being home, and I loved having them there.
My kids are all about two and a half years apart, which meant there were a couple of years when we were juggling three different schools. The first year that happened, my mornings were a loop across town — high school drop-off first, then the elementary schoolers, and finally my middle schooler.
That morning was a blur of finding shoes, packing lunches, and making sure everyone had what they needed. I knew the tears would come, and sure enough, the second my middle schooler got out of the car, they did.
An older gentleman who volunteered at the school waved at me like he always did. But when he noticed my tears, he just gave me this kind, knowing look. That small gesture made the tears fall even faster. Sometimes the quietest moments leave the deepest mark.
Looking back, I wish I hadn’t been so dependent on my kids for my sense of identity. They were a huge part of my world — but sometimes I think they worried about whether I would be okay when they weren’t around. That’s not something kids should have to carry.
My co-parents weren’t around, so all the logistics and emotions fell on me. I wish I’d had tools back then to process my feelings without getting stuck in them. I wish I’d had a support system of moms who understood. And I wish I’d given myself permission to see those drop-offs as transitions, not endings — for them and for me.
For moms in blended families or co-parenting situations, I know this season can bring its own challenges. Different school schedules. Different house rules. The ache of not being there for every “first day” picture. It’s a lot — and it’s okay to admit it’s a lot.
If you’re in that space right now, here’s what I want you to know: it’s okay to miss your kids. It’s okay to feel relieved when the house is quiet. And it’s okay to feel both at the same time. Your emotions aren’t wrong — they’re simply signals, showing you where you might need support, connection, or a little extra grace.
These days, back-to-school feels different. My grandson is about to start preschool at the same church where my kids once went — and I get to be there for drop-off. I can already picture him walking in with a backpack that looks way too big for him.
Just thinking about it brings a lump to my throat, but it’s not the heavy ache it used to be. It’s gratitude. Gratitude for those years of early mornings and carpool lines, for the lessons that shaped me as a mom, and for the healing that helps me see these moments as beginnings instead of endings.
Wherever you are in your back-to-school season — whether you’re in the thick of drop-offs, navigating blended family schedules, or watching the next generation take their turn — know this: you are not alone. There is life, joy, and possibility in every season, and it’s never too late to find your footing again.
