Summer's end

It seems as though the rest of the country has already packed their lunches, put on their backpacks, boarded yellow buses, and gone back to school. But instead of feeling left behind, I've tried to relish this final week of summer.

I took the kids to our favorite swimming pool with the frog and duck slides.

I baked yummy breakfasts, and we ate them deliciously late each morning.

I stopped by Lola's (my FAVORITE!) with a friend. Though I was devastated that the s'more cupcakes were done for the season, I chose an almost equally tasty apple cupcake with cream cheese frosting. We took the cupcakes back to her house where our children were playing so nicely. We quietly grabbed cups and milk, and tiptoed up to her room where we ate our treats and talked in delightful seclusion.

I packed up the kids and drove to the National Zoo where we laughed at the orangutan playing with a tub of bubbles, shivered at the unsettling sight of the king cobra moving fast and reaching his head up to the dangling light, and cheered while watching the elephant play "tag" with a flock of birds.

And I let the kids stay up late so we could read "The Penderwicks on Gardam Street" (pure joy!)

Normally, I herald the coming of fall, but this week I've felt a real sense of loss as the end of summer approaches. Maybe it's because my children are getting so old. Madi enters her final year of elementary school this year. And the twins go to full day as first graders. Maybe I'm sad because we really enjoyed each others' company over the last few months and I'm going to miss them. And I know I'm feeling anxious about being in charge of Baby C by myself, ALL DAY LONG.

I love this quote by Thomas S. Monson (the president my church): "This is our one and only chance at mortal life—here and now. The longer we live, the greater is our realization that it is brief. Opportunities come, and then they are gone. I believe that among the greatest lessons we are to learn in this short sojourn upon the earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. I plead with you not to let those most important things pass you by as you plan for that illusive and nonexistent future when you will have time to do all that you want to do. Instead, find joy in the journey—now."

So instead of jumping back into the schedule, practicing early bedtimes just to be ready (like the experts recommend), or getting out the backpacks, I'm going to find joy in these last two days of summer and hope that they go by slowly.