When Four Kids Walk Into a School Year… 🎒🍎✏️

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to have multiple kids start a brand-new school year all at once, let me paint you a picture.

Imagine a three-ring circus.....

— except instead of juggling flaming torches, I’m juggling backpacks , water bottles , and wildly different emotions .

First, there’s my 13-year-old social butterfly . Talkative doesn’t even begin to cover it. This kid could have a full-blown conversation with a wall — and the wall would probably walk away thinking it just made a new best friend . He’s my lovable troublemaker , the one who likes to make his presence known. (Teachers, I apologize in advance . If the class is laughing, odds are good he’s in the middle of it.) He struts into school like he owns the place, and honestly…he probaly believes he does. I’m pretty sure he’s going to give me grey hairs before I even finish this school year .

Here’s the thing that blows my mind: I was worried. Worried that his one-of-a-kind personality might be judged harshly, that being the troublemaker might make it hard for him to find friends. But somehow? Somehow, he’s making friends effortlessly. New kids, new teachers, new hallways — he’s charming them all. I’m shocked, delighted, and secretly a little proud (and yes, slightly terrified for the grey hairs ).

Then comes my 12-year-old sensitive soul . Oh, my mama heart . Every evening like clockwork, the tears start falling . “I don’t want to go back.” He clings to me as if school were a dungeon instead of a cheerful room with friends and kind teachers . He’s my good friend — the kid who always shares, helps, and cares. And maybe that’s why this transition is so hard: he’s quietly jealous that his older brother is making friends so easily . He thought for sure he’d be the one navigating new friendships first, and yet, here he is struggling, feeling like the “good kid” who doesn’t get the spotlight. Right now, school feels overwhelming, and he’d rather stay in his safe little world at home .

And then there’s my five-year-old firecracker . She’s the tiniest one of the bunch, but don’t let that fool you — this girl has the energy of three people . She loves her teacher , she thrives on the routine , and every day when I pick her up , she chirps: “When do I get to go back?” If she could roll out a sleeping bag and live at school, she would. And yet… she’s also my momma’s girl . She still sneaks her little hand into mine Even though she’s bursting with independence, her safe place will always be me.

But wait — there’s more. My seven-year-old sidekick . This is his second year at this school, so he’s practically a seasoned pro . What he loves most? That his little sister now goes there too . He beams when they walk in at drop-off like a mini-parade . He is my clown. With his hilarious moments… the other day he said, with a silly face and one eye bigger than the other Straight faced, that he shouldn’t have graduated 1st grade because his teacher is “mean.” (Then laughed) Naturally, I asked him why, and he said, deadpan, “She wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom.”

Of course, I asked how many times he had gone that day. His response? “Lots.” We both laughed, and I gently explained that teachers usually don’t mind if you go during recess or lunch — but you can’t just ask to go to the bathroom every time you want to play hopscotch in the hallway . His big eyes got even bigger, we laughed some more, and he went on his way, plotting his next little adventure. Kids, am I right? He misses his teacher from last year, but he’s adjusting just fine. Let’s be honest — if this kid had his way, school would start around noon .

So, how do we handle this wild mix? One teenager who thinks the hallways are his personal stage , one sensitive soul crying nightly , one momma’s girl begging to live at school , and one wishing school started after brunch ?

Here’s what I’ve learned:

For my 13-year-old troublemaker : I embrace that he’s outgoing, high-energy, relentless debater. He might technically be strong-willed, but he managed to find his crowd anyway — and yes, he’ll continue giving me grey hairs .

For my 12-year-old sensitive one : I let him feel it. Being the good friend is exhausting sometimes, and watching his brother make friends so easily adds a layer of jealousy . We talk about the good moments and slowly shift focus from worry to things he can control.

For my thriving but momma-loving five-year-old : I buckle up and let her soar — while still soaking up every hug she throws my way.

For my sleepy but sweet seven-year-old : I lean into his excitement about sibling time . That bond is golden. And let him come back ot give me as many goodbye kisses as he wants to for the day. He has the best hugs ever.

The truth is, transition is never a one-size-fits-all. It’s messy , loud , tearful , and joyful — sometimes all in the same afternoon. But here’s what I’ve realized: each kid is figuring out their own way, at their own pace, and that’s okay. Some days are full of giggles, some of tears, and some of giant silly faces — and I wouldn’t trade a single one of them.

So here’s to the social butterflies , the sensitive souls , the momma’s girls , and the mischievous sidekicks — to the first days, the hard days, and the moments that make you laugh so hard you forget to breathe . One thing’s for sure: life with these four is never boring, and the memories we’re making now are already ones I’ll cherish forever .