Another September, another school year begins begins for my daughters and me. This year, my almost-ten year old enters fifth grade while my almost teenager goes on to eight grade, the last before high school. Today, we officially dispensed with the tradition of my dropping them off at school on the first day and instead, they boarded the bus, excited to see friends and learn their new schedule and teachers.
I remember the days when like my girls, I embraced each fresh school year, looking forward to the promise of starting again, tabula rasa just like my pristine lined paper notebooks. Now, my first days are bittersweet and instead of focusing on what lies ahead, I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder, wondering where the time has gone. Because it does go, as quickly as a breath or a heartbeat or the blink of an eye. Suddenly those long hours of what seemed like drudgery at the time — lifting a 35 pound toddler up the monkey bars again and again or playing round after round of Restaurant or Jail or cutting up grapes into little pieces — are gone, never to return.