So the children start school tomorrow. Fifth grade. The big time.
Well, for them it's the big time. They will be the oldest kids in the school. This will be the last year of recess. The last year of school during which they will stay in the same classroom all day. The last year of school that doesn't include things like school dances and acne. Or at least I hope it doesn't include acne.
They are growing up.
I have trouble thinking of them as any older than they are right now, today. I've always had problems with that, I suppose. When they were three I couldn't imagine them being older than three. When they are twenty, I imagine it will be hard to see them as adults, instead of kids.
It's amazing to me sometimes when I think about their lives and everything cool they have done. How far they've come from being tiny infants in incubators in an intensive care unit. How confident and strong they are. How they walk in, make friends, take risks, and do all these things that I couldn't have imagined doing at age ten.
I am amazed, often, at how someone who is as frustrated, needy, and awkward as myself can raise two people who are bright, independent, and...dare I say it? Normal.
Being normal is pretty awesome, y'all. Even if I only get to experience it by proxy.