First Days
Yesterday was the kid’s first day of school. As we were in the car on the way for our traditional first day ice-cream, Gwen looked at me and said “summer is over”.
For a moment I panicked.
“No,” I told her vehemently, looking at the bright warm sun and the blue sky that surrounded us. “No, it’s not.”
“It is for us. We don’t get to stay home all day anymore.”
And in that, I realized that she was right. The long summer days of sleeping in and watching movies or playing outside, are definitely over.Internally I sighed. The weather must have realized that it was back to school time as well. The mornings are suddenly chilly, cool enough for the younger ones to don a jacket, and the afternoons have that crisp autumn feel. Before I know it the leaves will start to change color and the rich depth of summer will fade away as the greenery dries up and descends into winter. Although I love everything about fall, from the woodsy smell of firewood to the knee-high boots and the crisp autumn sky, I am loathe to see summer disappear. I’m not ready for the madness of homework and fall sports and daily lunches.
I’m just not ready.
We didn’t take a long summer vacation this year. I had longed for sandy beaches and the salty sea, but we couldn’t work it out. We had plenty of short trips to make up for it - to the zoo and the wilds, once to Seneca lake. We went bowling, watched movies, visited the waterslide, and were able to fit in an evening on the river. The kids stayed up later than usual every night. We had a water balloon fight, made cotton candy, and attended countless softball and baseball games. After talking about it for a year we were able to make our trip back to Indy so I could see friends and old places I had missed. But still, it wasn’t enough.
I needed a week in the warmth of the sun, a week to do nothing but look at the clouds in the sky and build sand castles with the kids. I need more campfires in the firepit, more late nights watching the stars come out, more time.
The first day of school pictures made me realize just how much the kids have grown since last fall. How old they have become. How, somewhere along the way, my first baby boy officially became a teenager. Somewhere in the middle of juggling high chairs and sippy cups, changing diapers and chasing toddlers, finding my way through a tumultuous world, my children grew up on me.
The high chairs and sippy cups are long gone. The echo of chubby toddler feet pounding down the hall , the sound of giggles from the car seat, the late nights of rocking that colicky baby to sleep…those days are long gone as well.
I miss the feel of those tiny little arms grabbing my neck in a fierce hug that let you know you were the most important person in the universe. When the world of school and not-so-nice seventh graders didn’t exist. When you didn’t have to look up at your son, who had grown taller than you, and come to the startling realization that in five short years your oldest will officially be an adult and off to college. Back then, I thought we had all the time in the world.
Back then, it seemed as though we did.
This year we had our ninth year of ‘first day of school’ ice-cream. Nine years of summers turning to fall, of sending Gwen, Lex, and Callie to kindergarten. Of watching my children grow up, gain independence, prepare to enter this great big world on their own.
A lot has changed in those nine years, but I will never forget sending Hunter to school for the first time. We were standing in front of Poston Road with the other kids and their parents. He looked calm, cool, collected. I asked him to hold my hand but he refused, wanting to appear all grown up. My heart sank just a little bit, I already felt like he didn’t need me. Unlike most mothers I had no desire to cry. This was just another step in a long line of them. When the bell rang for the doors to open, he reached over and grabbed my hand, and that’s when the tears threatened to come. He did still need his mom, if only for a short while.
God has blessed me greatly, with not only my own children, but those I have gained through marriage. It is an honor and a blessing to be a part of ALL of their lives. To watch them grow up.
“No,” I told her vehemently, looking at the bright warm sun and the blue sky that surrounded us. “No, it’s not.”
“It is for us. We don’t get to stay home all day anymore.”
And in that, I realized that she was right. The long summer days of sleeping in and watching movies or playing outside, are definitely over.Internally I sighed. The weather must have realized that it was back to school time as well. The mornings are suddenly chilly, cool enough for the younger ones to don a jacket, and the afternoons have that crisp autumn feel. Before I know it the leaves will start to change color and the rich depth of summer will fade away as the greenery dries up and descends into winter. Although I love everything about fall, from the woodsy smell of firewood to the knee-high boots and the crisp autumn sky, I am loathe to see summer disappear. I’m not ready for the madness of homework and fall sports and daily lunches.
I’m just not ready.
We didn’t take a long summer vacation this year. I had longed for sandy beaches and the salty sea, but we couldn’t work it out. We had plenty of short trips to make up for it - to the zoo and the wilds, once to Seneca lake. We went bowling, watched movies, visited the waterslide, and were able to fit in an evening on the river. The kids stayed up later than usual every night. We had a water balloon fight, made cotton candy, and attended countless softball and baseball games. After talking about it for a year we were able to make our trip back to Indy so I could see friends and old places I had missed. But still, it wasn’t enough.
I needed a week in the warmth of the sun, a week to do nothing but look at the clouds in the sky and build sand castles with the kids. I need more campfires in the firepit, more late nights watching the stars come out, more time.
The first day of school pictures made me realize just how much the kids have grown since last fall. How old they have become. How, somewhere along the way, my first baby boy officially became a teenager. Somewhere in the middle of juggling high chairs and sippy cups, changing diapers and chasing toddlers, finding my way through a tumultuous world, my children grew up on me.
The high chairs and sippy cups are long gone. The echo of chubby toddler feet pounding down the hall , the sound of giggles from the car seat, the late nights of rocking that colicky baby to sleep…those days are long gone as well.
I miss the feel of those tiny little arms grabbing my neck in a fierce hug that let you know you were the most important person in the universe. When the world of school and not-so-nice seventh graders didn’t exist. When you didn’t have to look up at your son, who had grown taller than you, and come to the startling realization that in five short years your oldest will officially be an adult and off to college. Back then, I thought we had all the time in the world.
Back then, it seemed as though we did.
This year we had our ninth year of ‘first day of school’ ice-cream. Nine years of summers turning to fall, of sending Gwen, Lex, and Callie to kindergarten. Of watching my children grow up, gain independence, prepare to enter this great big world on their own.
A lot has changed in those nine years, but I will never forget sending Hunter to school for the first time. We were standing in front of Poston Road with the other kids and their parents. He looked calm, cool, collected. I asked him to hold my hand but he refused, wanting to appear all grown up. My heart sank just a little bit, I already felt like he didn’t need me. Unlike most mothers I had no desire to cry. This was just another step in a long line of them. When the bell rang for the doors to open, he reached over and grabbed my hand, and that’s when the tears threatened to come. He did still need his mom, if only for a short while.
God has blessed me greatly, with not only my own children, but those I have gained through marriage. It is an honor and a blessing to be a part of ALL of their lives. To watch them grow up.
I have always been a parent that allows her children to grow up. To gain their independence. I firmly believe that they are talented and smart and are capable of making a difference in this world. I refuse to hold them back because sometimes it makes me sad to see how quickly they are growing up. I know that the next chapter of our lives will be just as amazing as the first. I’m so proud to watch them do well in school, play sports, and just be kids.
But there is that small part of me that is still holding onto the babies they used to be. That part of me is standing in front of a school, hearing the ring of the bell, and instead of them reaching for my hand, I'm reaching for theirs.
With Callie in first grade, there will be quite a few more years of first day of school ice-cream cones.
For that, and for them, I am grateful. God is good. All the time. Even when I can't see it...He is good.
Posted by
mindi
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