Schooled

And you thought school started in the Fall?  No.  It has drifted, week by week, day by day, all the way back to August 1st!  Ah... back in the day we had the ENTIRE month of August to pedal our bikes around the block, run barefoot until our feet were coated in dust, dirt and bits of grass, drink lemonade and wear out our library cards (the ones they put used to manually put through the carbon copier when you checked out a book).  School didn't start until Labor Day weekend... September!  Those were the days kids.  The golden, halcyon days of a three month summer.

I may be repeating, "already??" in my head over and over, but it is indeed time to purchase new shoes, school clothes, paper pencils, erasers they will never use, pens they'll leave at home or school or both, hand sanitizer and boxes of tissue and new lunch boxes.

And... my wee boy, the one who really was starting kindergarten yesterday, I swear it, will be in the 6th Grade.  Rob took him shopping for new shoes last week and the child wears a 9.5!  In a man size!  His foot is bigger than Rob's by one full size.  Today we went for a check-up and he measured 5 feet 1 1/2 inches!  He needs a small shift from the men's section.  He's leaving boyhood behind, quickly.  And I'm not ready yet! 

When did he quit needing a hug before bed and outgrow bedtime stories?  He needs deodorant and a good face soap and he still can't remember to brush his teeth without a reminder (or 12).  And when on earth did I blink and not put it all together that we have been marching past milestones, never to be repeated, at light-speed?

 Middle school.  The age of puberty and teasing jerks and learning about girls.  I am trying to "keep calm and carry on" but on the inside?  I'm freaking out a little bit.


So tonight I am going to sit on the back porch with a glass of wine and watch the full moon and soak in the stillness and the last few hours before we start a new chapter... one I hope is tucked in the adventure category and not the horror section lived out by many a geeky, awkward tweenager!  Gulp!  Maybe Tower of Terror WAS a fitting open to our summer vacation?

Summer

Long days that begin with lazy sunrises and end with 8:30 p.m. sunsets.
The scent of sunscreen and chlorine in humid air.
The happy screams and splashes and calls of "Marco!  Polo!" from kids in the pool.
The white flakes of a peeling sunburn.
"It's not the heat, it's the humidity!"  (Really.  It's both)! and "Is it hot enough for ya?"
Star gazing on the back porch with a glass of wine (Ursa Major, Hercules, Lyra).
Line-dried towels and pillow cases and sheets.
The rumble of thunder in the afternoon and the flashes of cloud-to-cloud lightening... a free fireworks show.
The whine of mosquitos and the hum of cicadas at twilight.
Ice cream and popsicles and frosty drinks.
Fresh garden offerings:  Blueberries, peaches, watermelon, okra, tomatoes, squash and cucumbers.
Freshly cut grass and the stinging bite of fire ants on bare feet.
The icy blast of air conditioning vents, flipping the pillow to the cool side and the lullaby of ceiling fans.
Sweating at 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. and 8 a.m. . . .
In the summertime.