Why I’m not dying for my kids to go back to school

When my daughter was five months old, my husband and I brought her on holiday to Rhodes in Greece. She sat in her buggy with her pretend-Amish-baby sunhat, smiling and waving at strangers while we swam and binged on feta and olives with glorious abandon. It was that golden window of time just after the long sleepless nights of babyhood, and right before she began squirming to be released from her navy Bugaboo prison to...