Although summer vacation is a thing of the past for grown folk, it's still a transitory time for most kids. Our youngest will be headed to second grade. But for our oldest, the transition is notable. This is the year he officially leaves elementary school and heads to middle school - to a sixth-grade-only school.

One mental health website called it "a major life event for parents and students." And I could tell right away when I walked into his new school. The first thing I noticed were the lockers, which of course means locks, which of course means combinations, which of course means the need for a memory! Sixth grade also means changing classes for the first time and, I‘m told, being given three minutes to get to each class!

And I don't have enough space to go on and on about the health video they saw a few weeks ago about their changing bodies!!! Okay, let me calm down and finish this.

The district was wise enough to take all incoming and currently enrolled fifth graders on a tour of the school. As in years past, I waited to hear him describe how he didn't want to go to the next grade level. I remember in the third grade how he loved his teacher so much and either wanted to stay with her or have her teach every grade level for him until he went on to college!

But that was not the case this time. He came home so excited, I didn't recognize him and I could barely understand him as he hit me with this rapid-fire description of everything he LOVED about his new school and how he couldn't wait for the sixth grade. Sure, one of the things he loved was the vending machines with his favorite potato chips in it, but STILL!!! Where was the fear, the concern, the trepidation???

Laura Sessions Stepp describes this well in her book Our Last Best Shot: Guiding Our Children Through Early Adolescence. She says early adolescence is partly about loss. She explains, "In general, we are losing our children as they are gaining a stronger sense of who they are, and we are offered front-row seats." That whole front-row seat thing makes me a little teary-eyed. It sounds an announcement, "Parents, please get off the stage. It's time for your child to take the stage alone. You can, however, still coach, but from a distance, in the audience."

Why didn't someone tell me that my hands-on coaching would end so soon and, before I knew it, I'd be invited to take a seat in the audience? Oh yeah, my husband told me. He told me that it was time to let him go. And in the book, The Wonder of Boys, the author describes how boys begin to establish themselves and pull away from Mom after the first decade of life. That's why, in part, he's so excited and ready to go, ready to move forward.

So why am I little sad?

Well, I am also proud, because he has received what he needs in the first decade of life to move ahead with such assurance. Most importantly, he knows he's loved, and not just by his parents. Secondly, he knows there are great expectations and serious consequences, and not just from his parents.

But I can admit that I am a little sad with the loss of my baby. But Sessions-Stepp can help us all out when she advises parents of middle-school students to share them with other responsible adults, give them greater responsibility, treat them with respect and manage your fears (Mom).

She also says parents should stay engaged. Oh thank you, Lord, for that one ... because, before I know it, the announcement will change to: "Parents, please give up your front-row seat, now, and move to the lobby."