Wednesday, August 04, 2010

Don't Blink

Cause you'll miss it.

If you blink you'll miss everything.

One moment it will be May and you'll be up to your eyeballs in all the end of the school year activities. The entire summer will be stretched out before you with the promise of lazy days, and fighting children.

And the next?


In a whirlwind of swimsuits and library books and grilled everything it will be the First Day of School.

And you will have absolutely no idea how that happened.

Seriously, how did that happen?

You'll look around and see a house that has spent two and a half months of leisure. As Pork Chop proudly told her former teacher "We didn't use the chore chart all summer." And we didn't. I kept threatening it. And when they fought I made them clean. But for the most part I decided the beds could wait to be made, and they did. They waited patiently. So did the legos, and barbies, and army men. The dishes and the laundry were not so patient, but even they waited as well. It helps if you're only wearing swimsuits. And after the Fourth of July we started eating off the left-over paper plates from our barbecue. It was heaven.

You will see a pile of floaties and beach towels. You will see half finished books everywhere, and they're not all mine. They're Pork Chops, and Meatys, and Birds, and even Sweat Peas (although I'm pretty sure that last one is functionally illiterate.) You will see the dinosaur zoo built with legos. And the stuffed animal tea party. And the annual world's biggest train track. (this year it ran from Meaty's room, down the hall, into his sister's room, under their beds, and back. Just in case you were wondering) You will see signs everywhere of a summer misspent in sloth. And well-spent in laughter.


You will sigh as you drop them off at school. New clothes just a touch too big because you know they'll grow. They always do. All the chlorine washed from their hair. Shiny faces excited for a new adventure. They've taken all they can from summer. And now they're ready to fill their heads with new things, new books, new words, new facts, new ideas. They're ready for it all.

I'm sad that in order to let them grow they have to leave me behind. I'm not quite ready to let the summer go. Not quite ready to share them with the world. I'd like to gather them all under my wings and read to them just a few more chapters. Swim with them just a few more laps. Tickle them just a few more giggles.

Thank goodness for Saturdays!


Chrisknits said...

And here I am waiting with bated breath to see them off! Love the post today, it was delicious!

Katrina said...

*sniffle* You've always had such a way with words. I've got a few more precious weeks yet before sending all three of my children off to school this fall. An empty house five days a week will be quite an adjustment. Even the cats won't know what to do with themselves. It's ironic that we work so hard to raise them to be people that we enjoy being around just to have to send them out and share them with the world. You put it so well when you said that in order for them to grow they have to leave us behind. But we always have their hearts.