I am having separation anxiety. It grows and grows, the nearer the day comes when school starts. Eldest starting middle school. Daughter in her last year of elementary school. Youngest heading to first grade.
No more mornings with Youngest, walking the dog, running errands, playing Yahtzee, passing the time until 11:35, when his afternoon kindergarten class started. On my own, soon, and instead of being alone for just over three hours a day, I'll be on my own, childless, for more than six hours a day.
It's just a matter of time when I'll be childless months and months at a time. Yeah, I'm already seeing their adulthood. I've seen how fast almost a dozen years has gone.
Eldest is nearing 12. His life has passed in a blur. Another 12 will only go that much faster. No kids at home.
[This all hinges on the fact that none of my kids are the knocker-up or the knocked-up in their teen years. Expect my sermons and passing comments and two-way conversations with Eldest -- and now Daughter -- to increase in frequency and intensity. Their future does not include babies raising babies. And thus I so decree it. Amen. Dammit.]
All right, I'm pulling back to the present, taking deep breaths to stop spinning out of control. There is nothing I can do to stop the march of time. There is no Botox-like product to propel my children back, back, back. So I just have to reach a level of acceptance and enjoy the now of them. Yeah, good luck with that, lady!