School Starts & I Chat About Not Much of Anything

Fall is in the air.  The nights are getting cooler.

Good snuggling weather, Jeremy says.  Not that he wishes it would stop at snuggling.

I have not felt like writing in weeks.  I just really didn't feel like I had anything to say to the world. I guess I tend towards extremes. By times, I overshare. And by times, I share nothing.

This morning I talked to one of my best friends on the phone.  She said "I was about to call you, because I didn't see you on Facebook much and you haven't been blogging.  I didn't know if you were depressed or what?"

I appreciated the concern.  I really did.

I told her that I am fine, but that sometimes I just feel like I have nothing to give.  Do you ever go through stages like that? You just feel sucked dry and like anything you say would come out brittle and hard.  Just the way you feel inside.

I do not find it completely coincidental that my creative inspirations are beginning again with the start of the school year.  I have actually had some for-real, bonified alone time.

If you would have told me 10 years ago that in 10 years I would be craving alone time like a desert traveler craves water, I would have probably laughed in your face.

I guess time changes things, doesn't it?

Anyway, all three kids are in school this year.  Full time.

For the first time in over 10 years, I actually have regularly scheduled time in my week wherein I am not at work or responsible for kids.  It feels like a bit of heaven to me, I'm not gonna lie.

Probably the hardest adjustment of my life has been the freedom that I lost when I had my first child. I think it took me a good 2 or 3 years to adjust to that.

Having all of the kids in school feels like I am getting a taste of that again. 

I feel bad that I don't feel bad that the kids are all in school.

My baby is in school.  Should that not be cause for tears?

"My back-pack reaches all of the way to my butt" she said, as she posed for me.

And then I made her pose for another picture that was a little more normal.

She was SUPER excited for school. And no, she did not go to school barefoot.

Kendall purposely looking mad...because we all know 2nd grade boys are NOT excited about school.

I probably said something funny to try to get Derrick to laugh. It must have worked.

It has bothered me quite a lot that I am not normal. That I don't cry when my kids go to school. That I don't feel sad and I really don't miss them that much.  I am excited for them and I appreciate the breathing room it gives me.  I am happy to see them becoming more independent.  But, I have often wondered what is wrong with me.  Do I have some sort of attachment disorder?  Seriously. Somebody tell me.

I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  My friend Mary told me this morning that she doesn't think the "other shoe will ever drop" for me.  She said I'm probably just gonna be fine.

But here is something I have learned about life.  It is unpredictable.

Maybe that is why I don't cry when my babies go to school.  Because I am expecting it. I am prepared. I am not taken off guard.

That I can deal with.

The times that I have been sucker punched by that "oh.my.word.my.kids.are.growing.up.and.they.will.one.day.leave.me"

were completely random and unexpected.

You know, that time I was traveling to Ohio with the boys and we talked with this older couple in a gas station.  They talked about how fast the time flies and how they miss those days when their kids were young and I have no idea why, but it just struck me.  My boys are growing up.  I looked at my six and eight year old boys and I just wanted to weep.  For things I've already messed up.  For ways that I have failed them. For time gone by and not cherished enough. 

And the time last school year when Derrick didn't want to be seen within 20 feet of me as we were walking into the school.  And after feeling a lot of confusion and "What the heck just happened?" kind of feelings, I cried.  I called a friend and cried. And then I cried again when I talked to Derrick about it later.

Because it hurt.  And I wasn't expecting it.

I decided that maybe I AM normal. In an abnormal sort of way.

This past weekend we had an extended Kilmer family reunion.

I had a good time!  We had yummy food and did some catching up. We played ball and stayed up late and looked at old pictures of family times gone by.

And I took exactly 5 pictures.

None of which turned out that great.

Sheila, please Facebook me your pictures! ;-)

I liked this one though. My Dad and Jeremy sitting out on the patio eating breakfast.  Well, really, I was there too, just not at the moment.

And, even though I have many, many more thoughts and blog posts swirling around in my head, I will leave it at this for now.

Oh, I did want to share this one thing with you yet.

When we were traveling to the family reunion, we went past this sign posted on the side of a brick building in the middle of town.

I loved what it said!! And I wanted to make sure to be able to go back and re-read it.

I asked Jeremy to please stay at the stop light (ok, not really asked, more like "HONEY! Don't go yet!! I need to get a picture of this sign.  Yes, I know there is a car behind us. I don't care. I want to get this picture!!)

That Mother Teresa was one wise woman.

I wondered if I started saying "Mother" in front of my name if I would somehow obtain more wisdom.

Don't answer that.

Pin It Now!