It is officially summer here.
The deck is draped with drying towels.
The freezer is full of popsicles.
The kids are home, flopping around in their jammies, making collages out of the National Geographics and listening to Harry Potter on their iPods.
I love summer.
I love the sense of closure that comes with the end of a school year.
I love that bedtimes don't matter and alarms don't ring.
I love my kids home, flopping around in their jammies, making collages out of the National Geographics and listening to Harry Potter on their iPods.
Still, as a parent, there is always something bittersweet about the passage of time.
The teacher goodbyes ache.
The outgrown clothes stun.
The independence startles.
It is honestly hard for me to believe that when we start back to school in August, I will have a 3rd grader and a 5th grader on my hands. My breath catches when I realize how long my little ones have been around, how fast they've grown, how not-very-little they are.
I relish each new idea they grasp, each new step they take into themselves, I really do.
But dang, if it could just slow down, 'cause I really, really, really like having them around...
My own personal antidotes to the poignancy?
Spending lots of time together.
A good dose of humor.
Y'know, this sort of thing:
For a Girl I Know about to Be a Woman
by Miller Williams
(Read the rest here...)