Seasons and the Family Room

I know this is all we 40-something women seem to do: whine about our busy, busy lives.

We are so busy doing everything that we can possibly do and we are damn lucky to have so much, but we whine. OK, it's our role, it's just what we do.

But I have been super-duper-hyper-blast-drive-busy this whole year. And I have not had time to do nice things like see my friends, or you know, sit down.

Recently my lovely little homeschool school had some trauma and we have a new policy that requires parents to sign up to be "monitors". I've been sitting at the hallway handing out hall passes (and making the teens do things like give me an idea for dinner for the menu I'm working on or to at least say "hello" to me before they can have the laminated green hall pass). But yesterday we had a little confluence of the moms who have been around at our little school for a long time. We're supposed to stay til 1:30 even though all the kids go to class at 1, so we had a half an hour to visit before we were all scheduled to be someplace else doing something very busy.

It was a play date for the moms.

And it was wonderful. We laughed and talked about hormones and teenagers and new babies and work and you know, being busy. We shared the space and the time. We've raised our children together for years and years. And there is respect and care between us all, despite huge ranges of faiths and politics, we care about each other.

My years here are coming to an end. Next year I don't think I'll have any children in the little homeschool-school. My kids go to regular high school for a couple of years and then on to what we call "Running Start" or early college for high schoolers. So it's almost over.

I'll miss the shared dirty kitchen that gets cleaned up over conversation. I'll miss the toddlers and preschoolers who easily visit with teens and other adults in the family room. I'll miss the impromptu ballet class offered by the nine year old to the "little kids" in the preschool area.

It's the end of a season of my life. I'll pre-mourn for a while and by the time it actually happens, I just might be ready. Or not.

Seasons come and go. Life's just like that. It really was a lovely day.