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Summer is coming to an end and I can't help but think about days past. Turn back the clock 30 or so years and I'm standing at the school bus stop.
As the other moms cried I smiled and quietly cheered. Yes, my children are going back to school. Summer is over. Why in the world are they crying?
Don't get me wrong, I love all three of my children, but summers were long and the children got bored easily. My friends loved their children too. I don't think they loved them more than I loved mine or that their homes were less chaotic; I think it was all about perspective.
My view of motherhood was structure: bedtime was bedtime, laundry was put in the hamper, and breakfast was at the table. Summer was fun and when it was over it was time to go back to school.
My children had wonderful summers. Family vacations, drives to grandparents, sleepover camp, and so much more.
At times, the kids might have wondered why the car rides were so long or why they had to go to camp, but in the end they had a great time. The oldest cried when we left him at camp the first time, and his first letter home complained that he hated it and needed me to send food. The second letter asked if he could stay for a second session. I rest my case.
The kids always had new backpacks, crayons and all the supplies they needed when school started.
New shoes and new clothes were required too, of course, because they seemed to outgrow everything in the summer.
My school supply box and poster board supplies were replenished. Running out at night for an emergency marker was not in my preferred job description.
I do miss my babes. They are 40, 38 and 34 now. But next week I leave to visit grandchild No. 2. I'll accompany him to his new school to meet his principal. He'll be in kindergarten this year. And, I'll think back and remember. Yes, the summer has ended. This time I might just shed a tear. Time marches on way too fast.
Franne Schwarb lives in Mount Pleasant. She is a Realtor, wife, mother of three and grandmother of three.
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