Here is this week’s Smartmom from the Suburban Newspaper Association’s Newspaper of the Year,  the Brooklyn Paper. 

The start of the school year has been an emotional roller coaster
for Smartmom, what with so many things to worry about. Will Teen Spirit
like his new high school? Will the Oh So Feisty One adjust to her new
teachers and classmates? Will Hepcat ever finish the time-consuming
project he’s been working on for months?

And finally, will Smartmom ever get back to what she was doing before the summer vacation — whatever that was?

For
Teen Spirit, the new school year meant starting 11th grade in a new
high school. Talk about stressful. Smartmom loves the new school and
hopes that Teen Spirit will excel there, but that doesn’t mean she
stops herself from interrogating him every day when he comes home. She
can’t help herself.

“How was it? Do you like it? Do you have any homework?”

Teen Spirit finds all this very irritating and likes to keep his responses to a minimum — at least around his mother.

When
he came home with his arms and shirt splattered with paint, she found
out that he’s been working on a mural as part of a school-wide social
service project. Cool.

New school. New classes. New subway. New
routines. And, boy, is Teen Spirit glad that doesn’t have to wear a tie
and lace-up shoes to this new, more progressive school, which is the
polar opposite of his old prep school. Smartmom has her fingers crossed.

OSFO
is a lot more forthcoming when it comes to talking about school. She
started fifth grade at PS 321 and is now one of the oldest kids in the
school. A senior. A big kid. Not surprisingly, she’s excited.

But
she also misses her teachers from last year. One minute, she hates
fifth grade, the next minute, she loves it. The first night of school
she got 110 multiplication and division problems for homework.

“They have some nerve giving us so many math problems,” she told Smartmom. “I hate fifth grade.”

Smartmom
can tell that OSFO is already stressing about middle school, even
though it’s a full year away. All the kids are talking about it. Some
of them even seem to know where they want to go.

“Where am I going to go?” she’s asked Smartmom more than once. The question gives Smartmom a case of heartburn.

But
fifth grade has its fun moments, too. OSFO and a friend are walking to
school together — without adults. That’s a small step for mankind, but
is it a giant leap for OSFO.

Then there’s Hepcat. He’s been
working all summer on a Web site for a local university. He doesn’t
sleep. He doesn’t eat. And he’s barely had time to learn the names of
OSFO’s teachers or the courses that Teen Spirit is taking.

He
just codes code, talks on the phone, and looks exceedingly agitated.
Most nights, he hops into bed just minutes before Smartmom has to wake
up.

Not surprisingly, Smartmom is dying for the
project to be completed. Then he’ll have time to shave (he’s looking a
little scuzzy), to do some chores around the house (that hallway light
bulb really needs to be changed), and, perhaps most importantly, time
to pay some attention to Smartmom, who’s got her own problems to worry
about. Dumb Editor has been on her case about missing deadlines (Dumb
Editor note: Smartmom’s copy is so pristine and coherent that I have to
have something to complain about, don’t I?). She also needs to work on
her novel and drum up some freelance writing projects.

Smartmom
knows she isn’t the only one having a tough time this week. Mrs.
Kravitz is running herself ragged now that her full-time job is back in
full swing. Diaper Diva is about to begin Ducky’s prolonged phase-in to
pre-school and many of Smartmom’s friends and neighbors are busy making
appointments for middle school tours.

This week, worry seems to
be the name of the game. Smartmom hopes that Teen Spirit will put his
best foot forward at the new high school and really enjoy learning
there. She hopes OSFO will stop missing her fourth-grade teachers and
be more “in the moment” about fifth grade.

And Hepcat.

Maybe
he’ll stop working so hard, so he’ll have some time to worry, too. It’s
not much fun doing it alone. And there’s so much to worry about, isn’t
there?