Digging in My Heels

I seem to always be thrust into a new stage of life before I am ready. That may not be saying much; I'm not big on change. I do often think of future changes, in order to prepare myself when the time comes--but somehow they sneak up on me anyhow. When some good friends decided to move away, I said, "I'm not ready for these to be The Good Old Days".

Another example: I was prepared to send Timothy off to public/private school upon the entrance of 9th grade. He would be 14 years old, and I would be ready to see him off into the world. Now, out of the blue, plans have changed and we are planning on sending him to private school in 8th grade. I feel like I have to prepare myself to say goodbye to him. I'm not ready. I don't want to.
13 years ago my mom and dad gave me this mug, celebrating the fact that I was to be a new mommy. I found it in my kitchen cabinet last week, shoved way in the back behind all of the mugs that get regular use. I pulled it out, contemplated it affectionately, and have been using it daily since. (Is that the mommy version of escapism? Instead of huddling up, rocking back and forth and humming?) I can't believe it's been 13 years. I can't believe I'm about to have one of those teenagers. I can't believe that I'm old enough to have a teenager! I can't believe that these 2 wonderful years that I've been blessed with, 2 years to homeschool my oldest son, 2 years of relationship building, character training, laughter and tears, is about to come to an end. I can't believe that I was engaged to be married when I was 5 years older than he is now, but that's a discussion for another time.

13 years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, I was told "Enjoy them when they are young, because the time goes by so fast." About 15 minutes later, all 4 of my children had progressed out of diapers and I thought, "Not fair! I made sure to enjoy them, but the time still went by too fast!" The days may be long, but the years certainly are short, aren't they?