It's Not Possible

It's not possible that my first baby, the one who made me a mother--who literally made me who I am today--was promoted into high school this morning. (She's in that photo, somewhere....) These kids came walking in, looking for all the world like actual young adults, as if this was real, as if they were really growing up.

I refuse to accept it. It's just not possible.

It's also not possible that my baby baby was promoted into fifth grade today, too. With comments on his report card that are as different from last year's teacher's final words (even though in many ways they were similar in content) as his first day of school was different from the entire previous year's horrible experience.

N occasionally shares answers with the entire class. His comfort level with others continued to expand this trimester to include even more students and situations. He was able to work more independently more often than in the past. ...

The growth--personal, if not physical. It's incredible. How can he be so heading-toward-grown-up already? How is that possible?

Summer is on. That, too, seems impossible. And Southern California seems to agree with me, since it keeps producing winter-like weather--clouds, drizzle, temps in the 60s.

See? Time doesn't march on. It stays still. Still, I say. Be still, my babies. Stop moving so fast. Stop moving away from me so fast.

(I'm so proud of you, both. So proud.)