I think I’m supposed to be sad today. I think so because facebook and Instagram and twitter tell me so.  They are filled with moms posting teary statuses about their babies, and back to school posts about longing and wishing to turn back time. I think I’m supposed to be sad because I kissed my kids goodbye today and after 11 years, they all went off to full time school and left me here, alone. We spent the weekend packing backpacks and making lists.  Trying to make a way to make ‘balanced nutrition breaks’ work with my eating phobic kids.  Talking about friends and teachers and bedtimes. This morning they were up well before 7, even though they don’t leave until almost 9.  Dressed in their very best, until they decided to draw with chalk on the driveway while they waited and ended up covered in coloured dust. I cared a little, even though my goal this year was to head for a mediocre start. Because we all know I’m not going to keep up some super planned routine of having it all together very long.  So I decided to just ditch all the keener bullshit and start the year the way I hope to finish – “meh”. That way the teachers are impressed when I get even the smallest things done, instead of disappointed when Monster shows up for the first time with 2 different shoes or Drama doesn’t have her lunch kit packed 3 days in a row.  And they are full of acceptance instead of frustration when Freckles forgets his entire backpack by month 2. But I mostly spent the last few days feeling bad about my…