As the light dies in my eyes
Still adjusting to our back-to-school schedule. We’ve implemented a complex morning shower routine, and it seems to be working. Sport, however, tends to linger under the water spray and takes a leisurely approach to waking up. LegoGuy took it upon himself to hurry his brother along. He burst into the bathroom, shouting like a Drill Sergeant.
“In this house, we take military showers! Do you know what a military shower is, soldier? That’s 60 seconds of water time. Sixty seconds! Let’s go! Get it in gear! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”
SO and I were at the table, laughing at the muffled shouts. LegoGuy came out to the kitchen with a mischievous grin. “I saw the light go out of his eyes,” he said.
The boys and their dad aren’t quite used to these early mornings, having slept late most of the summer. And all these bodies to bump into while I’m trying to get ready for work have thrown me off as well. I’m thinking by next week we’ll be acclimated. The hardest thing to get used to, however, is the loss of free time. We’ve got to worry about meet-the-teacher night, open house, parent/teacher conferences, orchestra practice, homework, concerts, piano lessons, theory lessons, recitals, contests, music programs. No more family movie nights, quiet reading on the couch, leisurely visits with friends, impromptu soccer games on the front lawn. The familiar fist of tension starts to grow in my chest.
Adding to the stress is the possibility that LegoGuy will start “dating” this year. We told him he could go on group dates as long there was an adult somewhere to chaperone. Yes, it sounds old-fashioned, but I can’t imagine sending a group of 7th graders out minus a level-headed grown-up to keep an eye on things.
I’m also sorry to report that Sport has reached the age that he will not hold my hand in public. I noticed this when walking him to VBS a couple weeks ago. I reached out to take his hand and he pulled away. “I still love you, Mom,” he said, “But I am in 3rd grade now.”
That fist of tension in my chest is now mixed with a little sadness. They have to grow up, don't they?
1 comment:
Amen, sister! Went to the back to school night and wouldn't ya know that Drama Queen found the Girl Scout table. She was interested. So I signed their names on the interested sheet. They had a column there for whether you would be stupid enough to lead a troop. I marked very boldly NO! Then guilt struck like a lightening bolt. To the side I wrote that I would only consider if it was the last resort. That they had exhausted every live and dead body they could find. Of course my guilt kept building when the man manning the table made noises like he thought I was terribly rude. I walked out of that building and the fear and terror kept building. I told Passionfruit that I knew my life was going to take a terrible turn because of what I did. The Girl Scouts were going to track me down! They were going to brow beat me back into serving! My life force was going to be sucked dry by the Girl Scouts. All it would take would be for one person that could remember 20 to 25 years ago I am dead in the water. I know all of this sounds horrible but I really don't feel driven about Girl Scouting like I used to. I've run into old Girl Scouting pals and they all have daughters and they all are active leaders! I was hoping to keep scouting out of my daughters eyes but alas I failed. Yes, I know that feeling of the fist tightening around your chest well.
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