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being sad about what I want to happen

It’s (almost) August, which means it’s time for football. August is when all the local teams, from college to middleschool, take to the my road.  When my sons would run by I’d smile and wave and the team would wave back. It’s part of conditioning and our house is on the best route.

It’s not just football, we see cross country and soccer players too. They start in small doses, a couple at a time. Usually the team captains and one or two other players they dragged out. In a week it will be doubled, they call those captain’s practices around here. Then by the last week of August they’ll run by in teams, lazy guys included. My youngest was always one of the first, my eldest one of the last.  My family had balance 🙂

The herds of runners are a sign that Fall’s coming soon. Pretty soon the college students will show up. Upper classmen carpooling with u-hauls, freshmen sitting in the back seat of their parents car knowing their new life is at the end of the car ride.  I did that ride with each of my sons, it was harder on me than it was on them but they love their Mom so they humored me.  I got to take the ‘putting key in dorm room lock’ pictures and they even let me make their beds before I left. I can’t have my kid sleeping in an unsheeted bed and I know them both pretty well so I knew they wouldn’t bother.

I also know Fall’s in the offing because at the WalMart school supplies have taken over the front half of the store. Luckily I can go in the other entrance and not have to wade through the petulant kid aisles. I never understood why a child needs new socks and underware for school. Seems a few crayons, a gluestick, and a bookbag would do it.

I only have to venture into school supply land when I buy pet food and I think I’m set on those for the month of August. Burg’s got a shiny new BJs membership and he really likes using it. He bought us shampoo in what seems like a gallon drum and we’re all set for life on q-tips.

The thought of summer ending makes me think of this:

In the next thirty days I will go from Tia:a parent to Tia:a grandmother. I think I’d like a little more time please. I know I’m old enough to be a grandmother. The boy says I’m older than dirt so I must be old enough to be a grandmother.

My age really doesn’t bother me anyway. It took me a lot of years to become who I am. I’ve done a lot of stuff in my years. It’s not like I wasted them, so why should age bother me? I like 45-ish me. I’m just not ready to be a grandmother quite yet.

Not because of me. I’m not ready to see my son as a ‘Father’. It went by too fast.  I really wouldn’t slow down or speed up time if I could but it hurts a little right now. I know life’s not a VHS tape and I’m a little eager to meet my granddaughter. It just hurts once in a while. 

I keep trying to remember, whenever I slip into sad, that in less than thirty days my son’s going to be a Daddy. There’s a good side to my sad feelings and I’m betting the sad ones will go away once life happens.  God’s good to us that way.


We’re putting together a baby pool for the month of August. We’re all putting in $10.  Even though the Mommy-to-be has an unfair advantage.

I’m taking the 21st but I’ll do a side bet that whoever wins gives it all to the baby anyway.

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