So last night in the Robinson household, amongst the battles of bedtime, I noticed that High School Musical 3 was on in the background. Having never seen this movie before, I noticed that our oldest child was glued to the TV. Probably because our TV is always, always, always on Disney Junior. Always. So the sight of another show on television was probably pretty exciting. Now, there was only about 10 minutes left in the movie, but it got me thinking. Thinking about our four babies in the drama filled and peer pressure packed atmosphere of high school. Don’t get me wrong, Erica and I loved high school and I realize we’re only twenty nine years old, but things have changed so much within the past 10 years. I can’t imagine how different they’re going to be in ten more.

When we were in high school there was no such thing as Facebook (only for registered college students), no smart phones, and even the cool kids only had flip phones. Gosh, I used to drool over those Razor phones, while I just sat in the corner with my ten pound Nokia 918p and played “Snake”. Not to mention the 17 foot antenna. But hey, I had a phone, right? When Erica and I wanted to talk to each other, I had to call her house phone because my ten pounder didn’t have service unless I was rappelling from the actual cell tower in the middle of the corn field.  I would even have to ask her parents to speak to her, a concept lost on many teens nowadays.

So, after we got all the kids to bed, Erica and I reminisced about those glory days and how we hope our kids can have the same experience with life, love, and hardships within the confines of senior high. Those Monday through Friday times where we failed tests, borrowed lunch money, and dissected frogs in Mrs. McWhorter’class.

As parents we can only hope that high school brings as much joy to our kids, as it did to us. So many people can’t say that because for some, high school was horrific, and I truly hate that, because that’s not fair. In looking forward, I won’t always be with them every second, so I can’t expect any of these, but I do reserve the right as their Daddy to hope for them…

I hope they feel comfortable in their new outfits on that critical first day of school.

I hope they make it safely to their first period class, and sit next to their future best life-long friend.

I hope they have a place to sit at lunchtime or share their seat with the ones who don’t.

I hope they have enough snack money.

I hope they don’t make fun of anyone, or anyone makes fun of them.

I hope they remember their manners, and others notice.

I hope they’ll always have the same group of friends and have each other’s back.

I hope they’re happy in their skin. Or just happy, period.

I hope they learn to love their body, even through the awkward stages of seventh and eighth grade where pimples and Clearasil rule the land.

I hope they pass their driver license test.

I hope they make it home safe every night.

I hope they remember their curfew, and respect it.

I hope they respect us.

I hope they’re responsible with their money.

I hope someone thinks enough of them to ask them to prom.

I hope they meet someone. – I hope we like them

I hope they fall in love.

I hope they always invite new friends to church.

I hope they pray, and mean it.

I hope they stand up for God.

I hope they always ask themselves, what would Jesus do? Then I hope they do it.

I hope for straight A’s, honor rolls, award banquets, and turning of tassels.

I hope for compassion, patience, and guidance towards others.

I hope for headlights in our driveway before curfew, and long conversations when they get home.

I hope for first kisses, prom dresses, and finding my boy the perfect tux.

I hope for “Thanks Mom & Dad”, “Can you help me with my tie” and “I love yous”

I hope for honesty in difficult conversations, and integrity through trials of their character.

I hope for seatbelts, looking both ways, and no texting while driving.

I hope they remember their way home, and who they were named for.

I hope for grounding and stability when the world pushes back.

I hope they remember us.

I guess I just hope everything goes perfect, you know? That they never get hurt, or never have their heart broken , or never fail a test they studied so hard for.

It’s consuming because it’s supposed to be. These are the threads that make strong parents. The fibers that prepare us for the overjoys and the unimaginables of raising these little lives.

High School is the place that’s shaped us all, either for the better or the worse. We hold the memories of favorite teachers, term papers, and lunchroom boycotts. We learn to love, kiss, and dance. We even embrace the changes of losing a best friend to another school or even death.

I hope our babies survive it. I hope they’re liked, loved and appreciated.

I just hope I’m doing it right.