Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Milestones

Swing

I haven't written anything in over a month, because I've lost the recipe for making time.

So many things have changed. If I don't think about it, everything feels kind of the same, like we're just chugging along, days and evenings all blurring together. When I step back and really think about it though, some differences are obvious. I am more or less pain-free these days. Ivy is speaking in sentences. Westley is reading sentences, which I still can't really believe. (It seemed to happen overnight. One day he still didn't recognize a handful of letters, and the next day he was just...reading. Everything.) Rob, who is always busy, is suddenly busier. It seems like a long time since any of us slowed down.

Today I felt the change. Today was the last day of school. Westley spent the afternoon with my parents, and I took Ivy to the park. The same park we went to last week, at roughly the same time. Because the park is pretty close to the grocery store and "time to go" is easier to accept if you get to go pick out bananas afterwards. (At least, that's how it works for my almost two-year-old.) Last week, there were just a few other people at the park, and only one other child. Today it was a sea of elementary-school-aged kids and bikes and moms and scooters and bike helmets and dogs.

"Did you know it's the last day of school?" the girl on the swing next to Ivy's asked me. She was swinging and coloring in a journal at the same time.

"I did know that."

"It's summer vacation. I'm going on a vacation. To Hawaii." Then she offered to push Ivy on the swing. I turned her down, since Ivy's in a wary-of-strangers-over-a-certain-age phase. The girl shrugged and went over to push her little sister, leaving a purple marker on her own swing to save her spot.

* * *

When Westley got home, I looked over his end-of-the-year paperwork, which included a list of school supplies for first grade. That did it. He's really done with kindergarten.

I keep thinking I should be more weepy about this. Mostly it's just strange to think that so much time has passed so quickly. Especially when I feel like I can't find—or make—time anymore.

.....................................

1 comment:

Ellie said...

I wish I had the recipe for time myself.