Today is the last day of summer. It doesn’t matter that it’s 102 degrees outside. And it will be 102 tomorrow and the day after and every day after that for as far as we can see into the future. However, 102 tomorrow will feel different than 102 today feels. Tomorrow it will no longer be summer. Tomorrow is the first day of school. We have come to another milestone in our family. Tomorrow I will have one daughter in first grade, one in fourth and one in sixth. It will be the last year all three of them will be together in elementary school. As of tomorrow, there will be no more sleeping in until noon (Callie), no more turning the house upside-down into an American Girl fantasy world with every nook and cranny of every room serving a different function (Sadie), no more spending all day in dress-up clothes while playing with Barbies, spatulas, and hair brushes, with the spatulas and brushes servings as boyfriends and husbands for all the individual Barbies (Grace). We will not have any more nights driving home after swimming, with all the windows down, the warm outside air acting as a blow-dryer to dry our wet, chlorine-bleached hair. No more sisterly games of Settlers of Catan that last all day and into the next. No more free-for-alls at lunch time, unloading the entire contents of the refrigerator onto the kitchen counter while everyone gets very creative in deciding what they’d like to make themselves for lunch. (Grace has recently decided that sandwiches taste much better when you put the lunch meat on top of the sandwich as well as inside.)
No, tomorrow starts a new life. Tomorrow, we resume the life of backpacks, homework, lunch boxes, daily chores, piano lessons, basketball (eventually), birthday parties, looking forward to holidays, riding bikes after school (after it’s not 102 anymore)… Tomorrow my kids grow up again. I’ll drop them off at school in the morning and cry after I get back in my car, just like I always do on the first day of school. Not because I’m sad. Of course I want my kids to grow up. If they didn’t, something would be terribly wrong. I cry because I’m so incredibly proud of them. They’ve reached another milestone. They’re growing up.
It’s been a great summer.
Fierce Peace 
I love those 3 girls of yours! I love their creativity, their silliness, thier great ability to play and imagine. I love how they love their cousin–even if he is a boy. I’m so excited and happy for them as they all go to school together. Les, I hope you treat yourself tomorrow after you drop them off. And, please give them a hug and kiss for me. Love, Mrs. Firelance.
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I love my kids dearly. But I get my quiet office, my quiet house, and my lovely wife back for the weekdays. Hallelujah!
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Yes indeed. Yee haw!
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I think I may just treat myself to an iced coffee at Starbucks, Mrs. F. Thanks for the suggestion.
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I too cry the first day of school every year. I am already choked up as I write this evening. High school is not easy for those who don’t love the games that one must play to be cool. The hard decisions and extra responsibilities can be weighty. I will miss the long summer days where my girl considers noon way too early to be up.
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School started two weeks ago for us. I miss seeing them drag their baby sister around the house or push her in the stroller and pretend she is their baby. No more lying around in front of the tv playing video games in his pajamas for Zach.
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priceless post les, thanks!
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Les,
You’re a great writer. I love you, your girls, your husband, your parents, and your brothers, …wait, well one of your brothers, but since I singled him out, lets just pay the other a nice compliment and say he’s awesome.
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This is good. Today and tomorrow reminds me of yesterday.
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I noticed one of the Barbies had a cheese cutter for a husband. I guess one cheese cutter out of several hair brushes and spatulas isn’t too bad a ratio.
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Leslie, You are quite the talented writer, not to mention artist (Your photography is definitly an art!) And, oh my, what gorgeous children you have. I remember the days of my life that you are writing about now . . . the first day Katy went to school and although school had been the ONLY thing she ever wanted to do since birth (because her brother started school the year she was born) she decided that first week she’d learn more staying at home and “doing real estate with Dad.” This is more than a comment; I should have written you a full-blown e-mail. Love and keep up the good writing.
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Karen,
Thanks for the comment! And by the way, nice use of the semi-colon there in the second to the last sentence. I am never sure where a semi-colon goes so I always end up using a dash instead. Very impressive.
Mom,
That’s funny.
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Les, For years I used dashes ’cause I wasn’t confident I knew where to put semi-colons. Then I turned 50 and decided I’d put them wherever I wanted them to go!!! Oh yeah, and I loved both your Mom’s and your Dad’s comments to you on this piece–their personalities really shine thru their responses.
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