Here's my version of BH's September sketch. Had a lot of fun with this one in my journaling which reads: "First day of school. Man I feel old. Every year on the first day of school I am reminded how much you two have grown and how much older I am getting. My first reaction to seeing the pictures Daddy took of your first day of Second and First grades was surprise at how much more grown up you look from last year's pictures. Grown up clothes, big kid backpacks. Where are my babies? Where are the toddlers who need their Mommy to pick out their clothes? You need me to help you learn to tie your shoes? Don't your shoes have Velcro? What do you mean you need lunch money? Can you buy "Sea Monkeys" from the science sale in the library? Oh no, no no no no no . . . I'm not ready for this. And yet, on the other hand, I love getting ready for the first day of school. Apparently the euphoria induced by spending money on new pencils temporarily clouds the part of the brain that processes the "I'm getting older panic." Thank goodness something helps calm me down. Ah ha, a Calgon moment, shopping for clothes, folders (which we called "Pee Chees" when I was in school not too long ago!), pencils, erasers, glue, tissue. Wait a sec, "tissue"? Baby wipes? Paper towels for the classroom? Huh? I guess things have changed and it's time for me to just get into the groove. I can do this. I can do this. I think I can do this. Maybe I can do this? Deep breaths. It's just so hard to face - you growing up. Becoming more independent. Not needing me (as much). You'll still remember when you're rich and famous, won't you? I'll be the teary-eyed old lady holding her wallet open to display fat-cheeked baby pictures. Telling everyone around me, as loudly as possible, "That's my daughter. That's my son. I am so proud." I guess in the meantime there's still the Back-to-School shopping, right? So when will the Principal send home your supply lists? Soon? (I hope.) Can you find out from your teachers? Pretty please? Mommy will take you to buy stuff . . ."