Henry started sixth grade, and the triplets - including Carolyn who returned to public school after her one year stint of homeschool - started ninth grade and are now FRESHMAN. We've been in Texas for four years and those years have flown past. In another four years, the triplets will be GRADUATING FROM HIGH SCHOOL AND GOING TO COLLEGE.
I'm ... I'm .... I'm not sure how that's even possible? All I know is that this old Abba song keeps coming to mind and I want to cry:
Slipping through my fingers all the time, I try to capture every minute - the feeling in it...
Sleeping through my fingers all the time, do I really see what's in their mind?
Each time I think I'm close to knowing, they keep on growing...
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
The high school bus picks up the children at 6:30 in the morning. And as much as I'd like to *think* that I'm a morning person, history has not proven that to be true. Perhaps if I could get to sleep before midnight, I'd stand a better chance of getting up early, but most days it takes every ounce of energy to get out of bed by 7:30 AM.
So for the past four years, in the early morning hours, we would hear the high school bus behind our house, picking up students before the sunrise. Whenever we'd hear it, Charlie and I would nudge each other and mumble, "That is going to bite sooo bad when we have to wake up that early and get the kids off to school......" and then we'd chuckle and roll over and go back to sleep for another hour, while hitting an imaginary snooze button that wouldn't go off until our kids started high school.
Ah, but today. The Snooze Button Went Off.
We were up and out of bed by 5:45 and walking to the bus by 6:20. It was so early that I neglected to get a picture of all the kids gathered at the bus stop. Neglect, and also, I succumbed to the pressure of my children and what I knew would be an indescribable metamorphosis at the sight of their mother with a camera in front of their peers.
MOM, do you see any other mothers here taking pictures of their children?
No, children, I do not. But I also do not see any other mothers here who carried a triplet pregnancy that nearly killed her and then nursed three preemie infants until she bled.
NOW, SMILE AND SAY CHEESE!
Because I'm not a total nightmare mother (most days) ... I relented a little, and instead of standing directly in front of them - I stood across the street with another neighbor mom and we gazed lovingly at our teenagers, who were doing their best to stay ahead of Charlie and Ollie, who wanted to make sure they got across the busy intersection, safely.
Charlie and I returned home, and helped get Henry off to school - more than an hour after the triplets left. Sixth grade is wonderful because you can still hold hands when you walk to the bus.
But the displays of public affection are nearing an end with our littlest one, too, as evidenced by the lack of my son in this photograph. You see, I forgot to take a picture of him at the bus stop, so when I remembered, moments after he climbed on the bus, I scurried up the stairs and snapped off a picture. The reason you don't actually see Henry, is because he is laying completely flat in the back seat, in sheer horror that his mother would have the audacity to follow him ON the school bus.
But if you look really closely you can see his backpack.
Ah, these are the days. xox
