Wednesday was the first day of school for these two cutie heads. Well, three actually. Sugar Dog would be highly insulted if I didn’t include her in every photo I take of my children. Starting 8th and 5th grade…the time is flying by, as we all like to say. But really, it is. And one thing I have learned from having this blog, if nothing else, is that one surefire way to make myself sob is to go back through the archives and look at the memories I’ve shared here of my babies. Oh. My. Word. It’s heart-wrenching! Makes me want to slow way down and fully appreciate the time I have with them.
Now, don’t get me wrong, their first day back to school was GLORIOUSLY quiet in our house and I loved every minute of it! Ha! No tattling or fighting. No “I’m so bored!” every 5 minutes. But I’m also always sad to see the long, lazy summer days go. As much as they drive me crazy, I love being able to spend the summer with my girls. I wish school still started in September, after Labor Day. It doesn’t feel like they get enough fun time away to enjoy the summer.
Every so often, I start freaking out and thinking I should go get a full time job. I’ll think, what if something happens to B and he can’t work? or, Oh my gosh, we don’t have enough money in our retirement accounts! And then I’ll start listing out all of the awful things that could happen to us from the years I’ve spent working at home to raise my family instead of working a job and making money.
And so, usually when that happens, I will put in a lengthy (and I’m sure annoying) call or text to The Spinster. The Spinster will then begin the laborious task of talking me down from that ledge and reminding me of why I chose to be a stay-at-home-mom and why I would absolutely hate the working world. And she’s always right. And I’m always insane. And then the peace and tranquility returns to my world. So, while I may not know what the future may hold and whether or not we are financially prepared enough for it, I will continue to always be thankful that God has allowed me this privilege, to be their mother. To be here at home raising them and teaching them and hopefully helping to shape them into kind, caring, respectful people. And probably a little weird and crazy like their mother, too.
But I’m totally good with that. ❤