I stepped outside last week and smelled it. That “fall is coming” smell. Even though it was 80° and humid I could still make out the crisp, wet, smell of decay in the slight breeze. This makes some people excited. They start posting on Facebook about sweatshirts and bonfires and pumpkin flavored everything. Usually paired with pictures of pretty leaves. Other people, like Hubby and Mini Hubby look forward to the first frost with eager anticipation to put an end to their allergy induced misery. I am not either of these people.
I hate fall. I know, some of you probably just cringed and gripped your pumpkin latte a little tighter. Bear with me. I’ve really tried to like fall. I have! I’ve tried to embrace the changing leaves but in the Midwest, this is a VERY short window. I’ve baked a gazillion apple pies. I even tried buying some mums. But alas, to me, fall is simply change.
You may remember that I am not a fan of change. Nope. Predictability, sameness and boring. That’s me. So, I do not look forward to daylight that ends at 4 in the afternoon. I don’t look forward to adding twenty minutes to my morning bundling children, heating up the van and looking for the dreaded missing glove. I don’t enjoy the look of bare trees and dead plants. I want sunshine and color.
I like summer. No bulky coats and flip flops every day. I like long days outside in the fresh air, fresh fruits and veggies at every roadside stand, late mornings and later nights. With my kids.
Ahhh… here is part of my hang up this year. I am especially distraught this fall because my last baby is leaving the house for kindergarten. Mini Hubby has been looking forward to it for months. His backpack has been packed, hanging on it’s hook, for a month. His lunch box has been put on the counter at least once a week in preparation. He’s very excited to be heading to school like the big kids. His momma is not.
It’s been fifteen years for me. I have thoroughly enjoyed this season. And, like summer, I don’t want it to end. I don’t want fall. I don’t want my babies to go to school. What I want, is for them to be little forever. I love snuggling babies, sitting in a rocking chair all day and folding tiny socks. I love chasing toddlers with chubby feet, sticky hands and belly laughs. I love playdates and coffee dates. I love baking and cooking family favorites and volunteering in classrooms and on field trips. I love being able to serve my family and my church family in as many ways as my schedule allows. I also kind of like yoga pants and ponytails and worshipping barefoot in my kitchen.
But I’m done with these things. You see, I’ve got a job. Now, don’t freak out, my stay at home mommas, I am certainly not implying you don’t have a job. Remember, I think it’s the best job. But, I’m starting an actual paying job. And it’s a good one, I think. I will be working in the special education department of our High School. So, really, I’ll be even closer to Oldest Son and right across the street from Mini Hubby. Technically, closer to them than I’d be if I was at home. This job has many good things about it. The type of work (really, I’m so excited to meet these kids!), the same schedule as my babies, and maybe the added bonus of keeping close to them during some really tough years. Not to mention a second paycheck for when a car breaks down. It’s going to be good.
As soon as I get past this grieving over ending seasons.
There are a few things I need to work out. Like, how does one serve God faithfully in a secular position?
I’ve kind of enjoyed singing and dancing and reading and praying through my hard days. How do I do that now? I feel like that might turn some heads at the High School.
Why is it that the first child out the door clings to your leg in tears and the last one practically runs out on his own?
How do I serve my family well when so much of my time will be poured into other people?
How can I possibly love this next season as much as I’ve loved this last one? Will I ever?
This is the part that has had me crying at the drop of a hat this last week. Well, that and probably some hormones and a decided lack of chocolate due to this elimination diet I’ve been on over a month. But those are different blogs altogether.
So many questions, so many unknowns, so many feelings. This last week I have almost constantly reminded myself that God Is faithful, He knows exactly where I’m supposed to be, and He’s got me during this season, just as the last. But, if you’ve made a similar transition, if you’ve struggled through a changing season yourself, feel free to leave me some encouraging comments and/or reminders of Truth! I’d appreciate it!
UPDATED: Approximately four hours after publishing this post, I was curled up in my closet. You know, trying to work through some of these questions. I was listening to YouTube when this song came on immediately after praying for peace with our changing seasons. I’ve never even heard this song before. I can’t even make this stuff up if I tried. Listen!