Sounds like a weird title…so let me give some context.
Today, my kids finally started school.
This isn’t our first back-to-school, but it is our first full year at our new school in Illinois.
And even though I promised myself I wasn’t sad about it, seeing their empty rooms after drop off still got to me.
On my walk home I realized something crazy. I have 9 summers left with my oldest before he is on his own.
In years, 9 sounds like a lot. But 9 summers is only about 20 months.
Only 20 months of vacations, swimming, popsicles, water balloons, long daylight, and fireflies.
Only 20 months to have slower mornings and later nights together.
Then I realized this number is probably less than 20, because he will get older and more independent.
He may want to watch Marvel movies and eat popsicles with someone else. 😊
After my realization, all those mundane moments of summer seemed precious.
Suddenly I wanted to say yes to every request to play pool and ping pong, and yes to the ice cream truck.
And suddenly all this alone time I waited and waited for seemed very quiet.
I am still grateful to have our routine back and grateful for more time alone to do my work.
And I am not afraid of time moving fast, because I know I can’t stop it.
But I am grateful for the reminder that I only have 9 summers left with him.
So I will not wish the rest of them away.