My baby starts high school soccer practice tomorrow. High school. Even though school doesn’t start for 4 more weeks, as far as I’m concerned, as of tomorrow, he’s officially a high school student. My baby. A high school student. They’re not kidding when they say kids grow up fast. In the blink of an eye. Wasn’t he begging me to play just yesterday? Beating me at Monopoly even though he couldn’t read yet? Holding my hand when we were walking together? Wanting to be pushed on a swing? Laughing uncontrollably as I blew raspberries on his chubby baby belly?
Who is this young man living in my house, answering to my baby boy’s name? Holed up in the basement for hours playing video games with his friends. Only surfacing to use the bathroom or to grab something to eat or drink. Why do I have Sunrise, Sunset from Fiddler on the Roof in my head?!
Tomorrow is the beginning of the end. In four years, I’ll be left dazed and confused as to how my baby can be going off to college. An adult. Able to make his own decisions without checking with us, getting our approval or our signatures on the line that says Parent Signature.
Where did the time go?