As always, regardless of my feet dragging, time keeps marching forward, and I somehow and amazingly find myself with two middle schoolers, an elementary aged child, and a preschooler. Last night we got out the markers and crayons and filled out our yearly first day of school questionnaire and made the first day of school signs for the kids to hold. My heart was so proud and so busted up about these delightful, bright, silly kids.
Isaac starts Challenge B today, aka 8th grade for the non-Classical Conversations readers, and my brain is playing screeching noises as I try to stop this train. At dinner we went around the table and each said what gifts, talents, and attributes he possesses that will serve him well in Challenge B. We talked about his dedication, tenacity, smarts, work ethic, curiosity, and the fact that he's fun to play ball with. (Any guesses on which one Asher added to the conversation.) All of those things are true. He is so ready. He has grown so much this summer, in looks and maturity. He's still a tall and very lean fellow, but his face has the look of a young man and his demeanor is more grown up as well. There's just something in the way he carries himself. It is remarkable to be up close and personal to this type of transformation in my first baby, who I still sometimes think of as my itty bitty bugga boo.
It's the blink of an eye. It defies everything we know about 60 seconds in a minute and 60 minutes in an hour and 24 hours in a day and 365 days in a year. I know all of those facts to be true, yet it feels just as true that I was sitting in a rocking chair in a tiny little bedroom in a teeny apartment building singing lullabies to a little tiny first born boy named Isaac who busted my mama heart right open about 2 years ago. Nope. That little tiny first born boy is now 13 1/2 and about 1 inch shorter than I am, at least as of last night. It's highly possible that he grew enough overnight to overtake me in the height department.
Last night he was cleaning up from an afternoon of front yard baseball. I wiped my hands, wet from chopping veggies, and stepped onto the porch to ask him if he needed any help. As I spotted him, I stopped in my tracks to watch him. He was sauntering across the yard, a new swagger in his step, the look of a young man on his face. I could not quite bring myself to talk as the changes of the summer and of his lifetime smacked me over my head as I stared at this man-child of mine. I've known him his whole life. I heard his heartbeat for the first time in a little brick office building in Oklahoma while Jim was in Minnesota and I cried and cried and said, "If I didn't already believe in God, hearing this would bring me to Jesus." But this boy who I've known for the length of his days has a whole life ahead of him that won't include me in all of the ways that I'm used to.
I mean, really, mamas, are we okay with this?
And the truth is, we absolutely are. It hurts and it stings and we can't wrap our brains around it and it feels utterly unfair to love someone this much as we lovingly and proudly raise them to leave us. But there is nothing quite like looking a young man in the face after he's made a difficult and compassionate decision. There is nothing quite like seeing that future unfold in big and little ways as they take their first steps away from the safety of our home and out into the big world. There is nothing quite like trusting a God who loves my kid even more than I do to guide him through life's devastating challenges and unfathomable joys.
Today I'm at home schooling my youngest three kiddos while my biggest boy is at CC. 8th, 6th, 4th, and preschool started. Ready or not, here we go.
|math, cutting, then collage time, and piano|
If you have kids, have your kids started school again? What grades? Let's do this, mamas!