This past week my kiddo started 8th grade without much fanfare, and with only 2 pictures permitted neither of which where anywhere near the school. He went in as if he owned the place, a place he has been since preschool so maybe, in a way, he does. The week continued with seeing the other kiddo play his first scrimmage for his high school football game.
FIRST HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL GAME.
FINAL YEAR AT GRADE SCHOOL.
Oh dear, these hit me like a ton of bricks. Now, our kiddos go to private school and this high school is a prestigious all boys Catholic school so it is steeped in tradition and history. The young kiddo was on the sidelines of the Homecoming game one year as the ball boy and my brother graduated from there. The older kiddo has family going back even further than that so when I say history I mean that both figuratively and literally.
It was at this moment that I realized yet again that our kids grow up without us allowing it. They might be the little boys who need a hug at the end of the day, or whine because we make them go to the grocery store or make their bed but they are still young men. One - heading into his last year at the only school he's ever known; the other - heading into a school where he is the lowest on the totem pole and yet fits in as he is a Jesuit Man now.
I can only hope that we have done the best we can to prepare them for the adventures that await them. It's the parents prayer my friends. That and 'Please let them make their bed just this once without being asked.'
Sigh and Smile all at once.