I spent a portion of the day getting graduation announcements for my youngest child addressed and in the mail. Later that afternoon I watched as, clad in a tuxedo and a grin, he opened the car door for his prom date.
Wow. Wasnâ€™t he just a busy 2-year-old a short time ago? Iâ€™m pretty sure he was just running to me for a reassuring hug after skinning his knee just last month. Where did all of those years go in between? Wasnâ€™t it just last week he was standing on his brotherâ€™s back so he could reach the box of Cheerios? And it was just days ago his older brother and sister shoved their 4-year-old brother down the laundry shoot, just to see if he would fit. It seems like yesterday he approached the city council as a 12-year-old and gave a marvelous presentation on why they should pony up the money to build a half-pipe for skateboarding.
In a month, Iâ€™ll watch him don a graduation gown and march down an aisle to receive his diploma. A couple of months later, heâ€™ll be packing to leave for tech school.
But in my head, heâ€™s still that little guy who fell asleep during supper on a regular basis, dropped cereal from his high chair and giggled as the dog ate it and begged for more, barely made the mattress on the trampoline dip when he jumped because he was so tiny, and gave me a sad look when I wouldnâ€˜t let him keep as a pet the turtle he found down by the lake.
When all three kids were little, there were times Iâ€™d keep myself from going crazy by imagining what my house would be like after they all left. Now that itâ€™s so close, I want some of those years back.
Itâ€™s not that I worry about empty nest syndrome. I just wonder what my husband and I will talk about and who will entertain the dog.