For the past three years of our morning school routine, Owen and Jeremiah have always been in Phase Three. You see, every school starts at a little different time and each child is in one of three time phases. Phase one, is our 6:45 lone middle-schooler departure. Phase two, is our high schoolers, Joshua and Sophie. Bringing up the rear are the two littles.
I have always loved this time I get with Jeremiah and Owen. Some people talk about cherishing the time with their children that comes right before bed time. For whatever reason, this 'cherished time' for us is in the morning. While they eat their breakfast and I pack their lunches is when we tend to have the best conversations. But the last 10-15 minutes that we spend outside playing while waiting for the bus is perhaps the most treasured of all.
They go through different phases of what that playing entails. Sometimes, it's Knock Out. Other times, it's soccer or baseball. Right now, the sport of choice is Ping Pong.
Sometimes, I will play against them (they find my skills wildly funny). But most of the time, if I haven't gotten to do so already, I read our faithful kids-version 'Jesus Calling' out loud to them while they ping and pong. Then, we take turns praying out loud as the ball bounces back and forth (I'm teaching them to multi-task, an art form which their future wives' will be ever so thankful). Though before you get visions of Kum-ba-yah in your head, let me just shatter that for you right now. It's disjointed. It's often interrupted. And I'm quite certain they're not always listening. And some mornings when Owen announces he forgot to do some math problems or science homework, we are doing well to just not miss the bus.
As disjointed and imperfect as it is, though, it's special because it's OUR TIME. It's consistently a time we have, just us.
Jeremiah likes to remind me on a very regular basis that this is his last year in Phase Three. Next year, he will be going to middle school, leaving Owen all by his lonesome. "Mom, this is my very last first day of school at Concord." "Mom, this is my very last second day of grade school ever..."
Wes loves to announce almost daily: 'Guess what, Mom? Next year you'll have three kids in high school.'
They find extreme joy in bringing these facts up often.
I am someone who has a hard time not thinking about the approaching end. For example, when we go on vacation, I get depressed on the first day because my mind keeps reminding me that the last day is just around the corner. When I'm reading a super great book, I get depressed as I get closer and closer to finishing it. I just don't want it to end. I want to stay right there in the midst.
Maybe some of you can't watch Hallmark commercials. I can't watch the social media posts of everybody's children going off to college. It tears me up every single time. I don't even have to know you that well to be a goner.
These days, as I watch the ball get pinged and ponged, you can probably figure out what goes through my mind: I've got a Junior and a Sophomore. Next year, we will have three in high school. Who am I kidding? Owen and Jeremiah--they're basically almost in college.
And my stomach goes in all sorts of knots and inside I fall into a heap.
And that right there is the angst. The rub. It's that tug in your heart that you feel as a mama, wanting to be able to stop time and just be. But we can't. We have to change and adjust with each passing season.
So friends, tread lightly. I realize that Joshua is just a year away from his senior year and that everyone is scheduling their senior pictures NOW, but give this mom some time to relish the middle pages. To adjust and prepare for the final chapter.
