Is it the changing of the seasons? The end of the school year? Something about this time of year has always gotten under my skin and made me feel...weird.
I remember feeling this way even in childhood, which I look back on now with a growing sense of looking through the wrong end of a telescope.
That metaphor works so well for me, because it's how I feel about my children's baby years. I remember certain episodes, and have video and photographs to prompt my memory, but most of it is a distant "hmm, is that how that worked?" or "how did we spend our time, exactly?" (truthfully, my husband and I talk about BK - Before Kids - in the same way. "Really, we would just grocery shop, putter in the garden, and then go out with friends on Saturdays? That's ALL?")
And now, the kids getting bigger, older, more capable...and seeing all the high school kids around town, I have this sense that it's just one more blink and those tall, fit, driving children will be mine. And then?
Honestly, why am I worried about this at all? I'm still needed for vitamin dispensing and tooth brushing reminding and carting to and fro and playdate arranging and lunch making (sometimes) and...
This phase will be over before I can finish thinking about it, just as the baby years are distant now, too.
And then?
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