I know that I'll miss them. These long lazy days of August. The blankets and cushions strewn from forgotten forts, the wet wood floors from indecisive backyard swimmers, dripping suits, half-full bottles of bubbles, colored popsicle-stained trails down the chests of the children, mosquito bites and tomatoes from the yard. Though the heat of summer leeches well into September here, school will usher in Autumn nonetheless and things will change. Already, we're no longer harvesting cucumbers, but eggplant and okra, we've traded pre-bed wrestling matches for workbook time. Lucy's learning letters and Seth's trying his hand at cursive. I'm not quite sure if we'll all make it (alive) this last week, because, like I told two-year-old Avery this morning, "you're driving me crazy".
"Stop it, Mom", she says.
But, we'll make it and then I'll die just a little as I watch my two oldest walk off into the great wide worldwithoutme. And, I'll miss them. These long lazy days and those short little legs.