Biting my nails
It’s my turn to write, and has been for a few weeks. I apologize.
In my defense, I’ve been working on my Flourish Through Divorce workshop (with special guest: LOD) and freaking out about turning 40 and finishing my previous semester and then starting my last semester of business school. And the kids were with LOD for 8 days over Christmas, so I didn’t have much to report.
But now, well, now we’re dealing with a kid who is in fifth grade at a K-5 school. Which means we need to find a middle school for him. And we’ve got a bunch of options, and have only successfully eliminated one. I have my favorite, but we don’t really know until we go through the process at all the (non-eliminated) options and then get in to a school. And part of the process for some of the schools includes writing essays.
You would think that writing admissions essays for middle school would be super-easy when both parents are writers. And I suppose it’s easier than it would be if we were afraid of writing essays. But LOD and I met when we were both teaching people to take tests and write essays to get into undergraduate and graduate programs. So we have two chefs and no workers. And we each want to write a certain way (and, as you know, we have massively different writing styles) and with a different tone and flow. So this has turned into a comedy of “you write these essays and I’ll edit, and I’ll write those essays and you edit.” And then we edit back to closer to our own writing styles, and go back and forth about what we really want to say.
It would all be silly and not worth spending time on, except that it’s my baby, and this decides the school he goes to for the next three years, while he’s going through puberty and figuring out who he is. So it feels high stakes. And I don’t want us to mess it up because his parents are playing King of the Castle with the essays.
So. We write, and we edit, and we submit, and we wait.