Last Year of Single Digits

Grayson is 9. I only have him for 9 more years at home before he goes off to college or travels the world or becomes a professional basketball player. He does not understand why I am sad or why I didn't want him to start 3rd grade (THIRD GRADE!???) or why I keep giving him hugs.

My advice to him going to school was to make good friends who don't necessarily play baseball. (Baseball is crazy here and we don't play it but that means his good friends become even better friends with each other because they are around each other ALL the time and Grayson is left out). I'm sure you will hear my rant about organized sports at some point but not today. I suggested a few boys whose parents I like and he said, "Mom, you know those friends that I like but you don't LOVE the Moms?...I'm not saying I don't like him but it's kind of like that." It's a very good point. So not only can I not pick out my child's personality but I also can not pick his friends. Parenting is a very good lesson in not having any control (I should have told that judgee lady in Target that too). This year we prayed over not just the school (we walked the perimeter of the campus Friday and prayed the whole way) but the backpacks and kids as well. I heard that the Holy Spirit moving is evident when the wind blows so that means the Holy Spirit is moving all over Amarillo.

Here is the obligatory first day picture of third and first grade.

I'm not sure it was a party heading to school (Matalley was excited and Grayson was meh), but the first day went well. Lola, Millie and I entertained 42 Moms and 29 kids for a Cheers and Tears Moms' mimosa brunch at our house (we did not expect that many moms to say yes, but apparently mimosas are popular). It was crazy which was good to keep our minds preoccupied.

The kids came home happy.

And then they were back to making messes.

I'm sure Christmas will be here before we know it. Millie is so close to crawling, it's scary. And Lola is talking about when she turns 5, she'll be in kindergarten. I'm trying so hard to capture all these fleeting moments. Oh life moves so quickly...it's my baby boy's last year of single digits and I remember rocking him to sleep like it was yesterday.Tissue please.