School is literally days away from ending for the summer. I believe the kids and I have considered summer here for a good three or four weeks. Oh, they're still going to school and doing their homework, but they're going through the motions. Their hearts are not in it.
Or am I just projecting my own attitude onto them? I've certainly had enough. I'm ready for them to be done. But then I'm not. Do you know what "done" means for us? It means Eldest goes onto middle school. It means Daughter will be in her final year at the school next year. And it means I lose my mornings alone with Youngest, who will enter first grade next year.
Whenever there are moments that I feel time is moving slowly, all I have to do is look at those kids to realize time is moving at a monumentally fast pace. Where did my baby go? How did he go from the center of my universe to a middle schooler in record time? How can demono-boy really be finishing kindergarten? Wasn't he just the demanding, crying-boy of babyhood? And when did Daughter start to develop? Wasn't she just holding onto her three pacifiers?
At this rate, they will all three be out of the house and on their own in no time, and what will I do then? [Assuming, of course, I'm still alive because, as we know, I'm an old woman already.]
The school year is winding down, to be sure, but what really gets me is how quickly their childhoods are winding down.