Not Yet the Last First Day of School

So I did not get the traditional back-to-school photo op this morning.  When I grabbed my phone and asked if they were ready for pictures, my sophomore daughter looked over her shoulder at me and rolled her eyes and made that teenage sound "eeeehhhh" and my eighth grade son, dressed in a cut up t-shirt and shorts for athletics, showed me his titties.  So no, no I did not get an angelic picture this morning to mark the occasion. 

I did make myself stop and take a moment to thank God that these two little humans are mine and that this morning is pretty much a perfect representation of who we are and I probably should have taken the picture anyway.  My son told me I could take one after school when he had "nice" clothes on and I am pretty sure my daughter will not be able to resist a selfie today, so I will screenshot it when she is not looking.

I have read a few articles lately about "lasts":  When was the last time I braided her hair?  When was the last time I washed their hair for them?  When was the last time I picked them up and carried them on my hip?  When was the last time I read them a story?  When was the last time I rocked them goodnight?  Some "lasts" seem to fly under the radar and catch us by surprise trying to recall the moment when they snuck right out of our lives.  Other "lasts" we can review in our calendar:  Last day of school; last baseball tournament; last day in braces; last day to pay a bill; last time we attended a meeting.

And just as something ends, something new is allowed to begin.  I have always been fond of this passage from Ecclesiastes.  I will unashamedly admit that it all started with the classic movie Footloose where God used it as the leading argument for a young man new to town who just. wanted. to. DaNcE!  It worked for him and it works for us:  

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven-

A time to give birth and a time to die;

A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.

A time to kill and a time to heal;

A time to tear down and a time to build up.

A time to weep and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn and a time to dance.

A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;

A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.

A time to search and a time to give up as lost;

A time to keep and a time to throw away.

A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;

A time to be silent and a time to speak.

A time to love and a time to hate;

A time for war and a time for peace

 

Not only is there a season for everything, God allows those times so that you can learn those lessons and it may be painful, or blissful, or memory-making, or forgetful, but they are meant to be a foundation for greater things, not a mound of dirt to dwell on.  My contribution to The Mom Quilt is about that - life lessons, building a legacy of momentous things (you can hit the 'Buy Now' button over there on the right!).  The things I touch on are hard, and few of you knew that about me, but they have shaped my decisions my entire life.  To weep, embrace, search, be silent, love....sew together. 

 

We may not always remember the last time we washed our babies hair, but thank goodness we taught them to do it on their own...because that...that would totally be awwwkkkward.  And teenage snuggles (especially when it is their choice) rank right up there to nodding off in the rocking chair.  And although we may not read to them like we remember, I am thankful for the village that taught them to read and find the adventure in it.  Each ending, is a further beginning for an added season of independence, of preference, and diversity. 

 

So this morning's time of eye-rolls and 13 year-old man-child nipples will pave the way for our current time - an amazing first day of school and stories to greet me as I walk in the door ...camera ready.