#reliving high school with my kid has so far been the hardest and weirdest part of parenthood

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Even More Real Parts

So my kid is in high school, and he got involved in something this year at school, which means J and I are spending more time at high school (especially me, because J works outside home and can't make it to every high school Thing our son needs to show up at/participate in). And I don't know if any of you other Gen X/Millennial folks have noticed this, but the 90s are somehow now the Nostalgic Throwback Fashion high school kids are recycling. It's fucking bizarre. Sometimes while I'm sitting in the school pick up lot, watching the children myself and my peers created walk out of school it's legit like I traveled back in time 20-30 years. One ginger kid walked out holding a trumpet case and wearing baggy basketball shorts and high tops with black short socks when it was under 50 degrees outside, and I almost texted A to ask him if there was an unknown heir up here somewhere in my son's school district. Or maybe I hadn't fallen into some crack in the space-time continuum. It was freakish and wild. (Seriously the kid looked just like A did 28 years ago standing there waiting on a ride, trumpet case and all).

Anyway, all this shit is a lead into me thinking almost involuntarily about high school, and that makes me think about my first boyfriend. I talk a whole bunch about J and he's the love of my life, and I consider him my first love, because I really didn't feel or understand romantic love until I met J (no shit), but I did get REAL lucky as a guilt-ridden, almost totally asexual, maybe on the autism spectrum, naive nerd with my first boyfriend in high school. He was (and still is) a gem. For serious. I could not have done better and he set the bar pretty fucking high for sequential relationships, and I'm damn glad he did. Because I know from even adult friendship experience, getting taken in by a shitbag in a romantic/dating setting could have been catastrophic. He gave me the gift of high standards. He gave me, 'G would never say that...do that...act like that with/for/to me, so you can go kick rocks, you dumb fucker...'

The way G let Shy and Oblivious Me know he was interested was so creative and sweet and brave. Truly very Knight in Shining Armor type shit. He did it in the 8th grade before we split up to go to different high schools, which was temporarily tragic because it takes me a while, even with very CLEAR expression to accept that a person could actually like me. But I eventually figured it out when we were attending those different high schools, and it (obviously temporarily, but importantly, I think) worked out. And G was my first kiss ever, and it was literary. Like it really happened in Sappy Rom/Com Style. And I wrote those things as they happened into my story, Admission. So there they are. I'd apologize for the length, but I'm not really sorry, honestly. Between A and G and J? I'm not sorry for being me all the time like I used to be.

With my son having a rough time of things at the beginning of the school year, I've found myself spending a lot of time searching for the good parts of high school, so I could highlight them for him. So I could share with my son what helped me survive. A and G were the best parts of high school for me, and there were times when they were the only good parts. I've never thought of G as anything other than a good part. I wish there was a way that people (especially men) would accept a sincere thank you for making your life better. G made my life better, even though we didn't grow up and get married. A makes my life better just being my friend. But it makes them feel weird if I directly tell them that, so I write them into fiction. In the beginning of Admission, the real parts are G.