August is sailing right into September without even asking me. Am I ready for the kids to go back to school? Maybe. Am I ready for crispness in the air and a few leaves lilting about? Maybe. Am I ready for a bit of schedule put back into our daily routine? Yes. Am I ready for my son to start his last year of elementary school? No.
Here I am again wondering how the time between when he was placed in our arms on a hot and steamy July night at the airport ten years ago ... to now... went by so quickly. How did this happen? Sure, I remember many long nights consoling him as he tried to buck the sleep system, while I looked out the window across our neighborhood and imagined that all people in the world were slumbering soundly... all except the two of us. I remember questioning just how long it would take for me to be able to understand his babbling sentences and if he would ever say "sandwich" instead of "bunjich." I remember hoping that his first grade teacher wouldn't notice the permanent callous on his thumb - caused by six years of a very special bond between his mouth and his thumb. And not so long ago, we wondered if 7 x 8 = 56 would ever take up residence in his brain.
Ten years used to seem like an eternity. Now it seems like three hours ... or maybe one "church hour" if you ask my son. Which brings me to reality. Is he growing up too quickly? Yes. Is he experimenting with some eye-rolling and insubordination? Yes. Is he wondering when can he have a cell phone of his own and why I won't let him go further than the park on his bike? Yes. But here's the real question: Is he making shadow puppets with his hands of a prehistoric bird chomping up an alien on the pew in front of him during a long sermon? Yes. Is he still a kid? Yes. Am I looking forward to the next ten years of adventures? Absolutely.