|Saia - 2nd Grade - 7.5 yrs old|
This time of year, school portrait time, is always just so painful for me. It's never something you're prepared for as a parent. I mean, you dressed them that morning. It's not like you weren't there. You were aware that they were dressing for pictures. But then, a few weeks later, when you're cleaning out their backpacks and there's the now dreaded crinkly envelope buried beneath sweatshirts and math pages, empty fruit roll-up wrappers, and a random toy car and chapstick, and their suddenly oh-so-grown-up-looking faces are right there staring up at you, peeking out of the little plastic window, all teeth and hair, and it just takes your breath away because the second you open it, the moment you pull back the sticky flap, you can almost see the vapor of childhood escaping.
|Chago - 2nd Grade - 7.5 yrs old|
Or maybe that's just me.
But the point is that you're abruptly aware that they're not babies anymore, and it's just never something I'm ready for. Or willing to admit.
In fact, somewhere in my head, they're 3 years old still.
And always will be.
And granted, that's gonna be a little weird when we have the sex talk, but I guess I'll just have to deal with that then.