When my children were school age, the Green Day song “Wake Me Up When September Ends” became my unofficial theme song, played on repeat like a mantra for survival. The first day of school was not just a transition; it was a full-blown trauma test. Not being in the same class as their best friend was a disaster that required days of emotional triage. And as if that were not enough, sports tryouts loomed immediately afterward, ensuring there was no time to process the chaos of the morning. By the time we got home, everyone was exhausted, cranky, and wondering why the world was so cruel to tiny humans. First-day debriefs were impossible; we barely had time to survive the rush from classroom to gym, clipboard to stopwatch, while trying to maintain the illusion that we had this parenting thing

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