Time Flies By So Quickly
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This is the final year I’ll have two kids going back to school, and I can’t help but feel a little crushed inside. Each year seems to race by quicker than the last, and I barely have a moment to catch my breath.
Not too long ago, I was getting my three kids ready for their first day of school. I had a 4th grader, a 2nd grader, and one starting kindergarten. I cried when I dropped them off; a mix of joy and relief washed over me. For what felt like forever, I hadn’t had six uninterrupted hours to myself since my oldest was born. Finally, I was getting a break—some time to think about what the next chapter of my life might look like. Perhaps I’d start a new writing project, renovate my kitchen, or even learn Italian.
Yet, I was also a bit heartbroken. For so long, my world revolved around a young child who relied on me. That routine was my life, and it was familiar. Adjusting to the change was both an emotional and logistical challenge.
Things got even trickier the year I had one child in high school, one in middle school, and another in elementary school. Each had different drop-off and pick-up schedules, and the number of events, forms, and emails was overwhelming. There were days I’d be driving and completely forget where I was headed or what I needed to do. I often mixed up my kids in emails and called the wrong school to report absences. Once, I even showed up for a concert on the wrong night. I just wanted it all to end.
My oldest graduated in 2021, and while I was thrilled for him—he detested school—it also relieved some pressure. I no longer had to keep track of his assignments, and the number of emails and school events decreased significantly. Managing just two kids’ school lives felt much more doable. I only lost track of my destination a few times instead of weekly.
However, that sense of relief was short-lived. Yesterday, my daughter was lying on the couch when she reminded me it was time for back-to-school shopping. That’s when it hit me: she’s about to be a senior, and this would be the last time I’d see more than one of my kids walking into school together after drop-off. It’s all going to zip by too quickly. Each year seems to pass at an alarming pace, and I don’t have time to savor it.
Before long, I won’t be dropping my kids off at school anymore. No more sitting in the parking lot, watching them walk away in their hoodies. We’ll miss those conversations during our car rides after school and those heartwarming morning exchanges where I express my love and wish them a great day. The tradition of picking them up for ice cream on Fridays will fade, and I won’t have their friends piling into the car to hang out while I eavesdrop on their chatter.
Just a few years ago, I was doing everything I could to stay afloat, and now I find myself wishing time would slow down so I could cherish these moments while I’m still driving my kids around.
I know I have a few more years left, but I also recognize how swiftly those years will pass. I understand this is part of the journey I signed up for as a mother—but it doesn’t lessen the heartbreak of watching my kids grow up. Nothing really can.