about August

It's suddenly a scramble, trying to fit in everything we want summer to be before August is over.
School will start and opportunities to pile together in pajamas in the basement with popcorn and a movie will be slim.  Mornings slow enough to make cinnamon rolls and to sit around the breakfast table will diminish.  Fewer days to spend taking indirect paths and climbing trees and declaring most things non-essential and very few time-sensitive.
When the temperature tops ninety we tend to shift attitudes from "we shouldn't" to "why shouldn't we," inching up a few notches on the lazy/permissive/flexible scale.  It's about time to start dialing that back down.  But first, a brother campout.

This time of year there are so many folks trying to describe to the world that bittersweet flavor of growing kids.  The way time is moving too quickly and legs are getting too long, and yet how lucky are we to wake up to another sunrise.

There's still so much to savor, days at the pool and a generally carefree schedule, the way they show love to each other and make each other laugh.  They've had so much together time I barely know where one boy begins and the other ends.  So much together time that they drive each other a little crazy.  Sibling arguments and sweaty walks to the library and all sorts of other summery things can make days pass slowly and the season feel interminable, even when August reminds us that it's not.  

It feels easier to make concessions to the next season while still staring at their faces as they sleep, while they are completely here and not already half gone.