I shouldn't do this, I know. But I can't help but think that on Saturday I just watched my daughter's final basketball game or at least the last one in which I hear girlish giggles, where the pressure's not on to win at all costs, where parents are cordial and applaud even when the 'other' team (who are made up of our daughters' schoolmates) scores a basket. Next year, if she makes the team, will be much more serious. The girls much more focused on the winning aspect of the sport rather than the socialization. It hurts to think that in less than a year, my daughter will go from an elementary school girl to a junior high schooler. Granted, we are one of the few school districts that don't yet offer middle school so she's been 'young' a little longer.
It just seems like yesterday that I watched the ultrasound scanner in amazement, utter amazement, and seeing two little pods which turned out to be my twin daughters. They were so little and so healthy when they were born.
I remember that I didn't think I would ever be able to experience pregnancy again after the births of my oldest daughter and son but I was lucky, and got to experience it two more times. I remember the farmhouse we rented, where we brought them home from the hospital, where, for the first time, my oldest son had a bestfriend who lived right next door.
We had really good neighbors who brought over pie and homemade soup and fresh chives. It was a great year that we lived there. It was out in the country with cornfields behind us, near my husband's grandmother and dad. We had two bathrooms. Two bathrooms! We had enough bedrooms for everyone. We had a dining room and a huge front porch. We had a 2 car garage. I wish we had stayed there. I loved living there.
I remember playing basketball in the backyard just days before labor was induced and my girls were born. I remember the smells of just plowed field. I remember the blue of my kitchen and I remember our nightly process of handwashing and preparing 24 bottles of formula.
I'm not ready for my daughter's to grow up. Because if they are growing up, that means my son is growing up too. And where does that leave me?
I crave quiet - but I'm not a fool, I know that I will miss the excitement, noise, and activity when the kids are off to college.
I think when I return home tonight afterwork, I will hug them each real tight and tell them that I love them and that they are the best things who have ever happened to me.
And then I'll sit back and listen to the noise.