So, it’s pretty obvious that we’re in a new season or at least preparing for a new season. The weather can’t decide if it’s summer or fall.
I so dearly remember this time of year from my childhood days; it’s indian summer. Did my mom make that up in her “finding her roots” days?
i think that was a midwest thing. Like sweetest day.
Leaves are turnin’, pumpkins are everywhere (yay me), the floral section of the grocery store smells like those cinnamon brooms (YUM)and we’re shutting down the final games of the football season (bittersweet confession of a football mom).
But at any rate, the season’s changing.
Change is proof that we are still living, breathing, growing.
Speaking of growing, my baby (actually oldest child) is going to his first school dance. Albeit he is a junior in highschool it’s his first dance.
I can still remember wondering how on earth I would do it. How we’d make it through the crying, the teething, the sleepless nights. And him lookin’ at me like get it together lady. Now 6′ 4” donning a few stray chin hairs that he eagerly points out as though it wasn’t there before and by noticing it again that must mean there are actually more than he sees; that’s my baby.
We went shopping for an “outfit” to wear to the dance. He described his vision of what he should look like as “the guy who walks in and all the kids say WHOA I never thought he could look like that”, mind you his idea of getting dressed has become a uniform of jeans and a Tshirt EVERYDAY!
I flipped through baby books today of all 3 kids, watched my body morph, my babies grow and our family develop into who we are now. Even in all that we’ve become we are so still becoming. We are even in a new season right inside our 4 walls. Celebrating 10 years of marriage is by leaps and bounds a new season. My daughter is discovering fashion-new season transition from Punky Brewster all things patterns to Punk-Rockstar-Fashionista gotta look good. Even at 8 the girl knows fashion.
And the middle guy-(sad face cuz he use to be my wittle guy) he’s so ridiculously intelligent you can see his brain operating while he’s talking to you about the clever tactics of his friends. He has a passion for laughter. Not in a slap-stick class clown way but a true all out find the joy in every occasion laughter and it almost always comes from his belly. And it’s contagious. Gotta love that.
I guess I’m just reflecting. They’ve changed so much, yet there are little things about each of them, hubby included; that originally made me fall in love with the fact that God has given me charge of them, which continue to kindle the flames of unconditional admiration.
I love the colors and the fragrance of autumn. I love that it’s not to hot, not too cold. I love that it almost kicks of the seasons of gathering together. I love the fact that the more the leaves change, the more beautiful they are.
As I watch my kids change, as time takes us down every golden, nutmegged, sienna colored path, I am always drawn back to the comforts of knowing this is my life. Changes and all.