The Costco Connection

BY ELKE GOVERTSEN

BACK TO SCHOOL. Those three little words are set-in-stone mile markers for parents everywhere. Some cry; some celebrate. Often it is a mixed backpack of emotions.

For some parents, this is the first big realization that their baby isn’t a baby anymore. Cue the tissue. Other parents have just barely survived the summer with kids being bored, bickering or needing rides everywhere. Cue the Champagne.

Back-to-school shopping is a rite of passage. The supply lists. The new backpack. The discovery of the moldy sandwich from the last day of school still in the lunch box. The new lunch box. The moment of “Oh yeah, lunches,” followed by the realization that all you have in the house are ice cream bars and hamburger patties and lots and lots of ketchup. Summer food. The

SPECIAL SECTION

BACK TO SCHOOL

THECOSTCOCONNECTION

Costco members will ;nd many back-to-school items, including backpacks, clothing, fresh foods for lunches and, yes, Champagne and tissue, at their local Costco. Still more can be found at Costco.com.

scramble to find sandwich fixings, drinks and snacks that are easy, taste good, satisfy kids’ interpretation of what’s cool and still suit your primal need to give them something remotely healthy.

When my oldest started kindergarten, I was a wreck. I walked him to school and held his little hand and pretended the sun was making my eyes water. After saying goodbye I was like a teenager who had just gotten dumped; I openly sobbed. I did (not so) stealthy drive-bys of the school. I imagined rushing into the classroom to tell the teacher, again, how my son was shy, sensitive and special.

Tissue?

Champagne?

Back to school means a little of both

• Give yourself time to feel sad.

• Don’t be embarrassed.

• Have a plan: Meet friends; do a fun project.

• Don’t let your sad ruin your kiddo’s happy.

Tips for
tissue dabbers

• Give yourself time to celebrate.

• Don’t be embarrassing (unless you have a tween; no matter what you do, you will be embarrassing, so have at it).

• Have a plan: Throw a party; eat all the ice cream bars.

• Don’t let your happy make your kiddo sad.

—EG

Tips for
bubbly sippers

I wasn’t sure if he was ready, but the truth is I wasn’t ready. He did great. I caught up—eventually.

A few years later, when my youngest son started school, it was tender again, but also exciting, because my previously sloppy patchwork of child care during the day became simpler. Both kids in the same place at the same time? It was like a miracle. Less tissue. More celebration.

When my boys were little, we did back-to-school haircuts—little soft curls on the ground, breaking my heart. They proudly paraded their backpacks around, even though those bags seemed big enough to carry the boys themselves.

Then those sweet little boys with their gigantic backpacks and first-day-of-school haircuts morphed into middle-schoolers. They won’t wear coats. I have to bribe them to get a first-day-of-school photo. The new clothes can’t look too new, and the hair needs to be perfectly messy. An enormous amount of effort goes into such effortlessness.

This fall, my oldest is off to high school. It really is the beginning of the end. I am keeping up a brave face, but inside, ouch. The sun is once again in my eyes.

Both boys still need stuff. The back-to-school shopping is one constant. But what they need less of is me. They need me to back off, and let them figure out the ropes. Let them falter a bit and have their backs. Again, I wonder if they are ready. And again, they probably are, and I will catch up—eventually.

I will have a tissue in one hand and some Champagne in the other. And again, when my sons head off to school, no longer holding my hand, they will still hold my heart. C