I am thinking about change. One of my favorite quotes regards this life constant. “The moment of change is the only poem,” wrote Adrienne Rich.

Fall is here. It’s in the air: a chill covers even the sunniest afternoon. I have bought the girls’ school supplies. I’m thinking about sweaters and I have already worn boots to an evening party.

Mostly, change excites me. To tell you the absolute truth (as if I could really lie), I am counting the minutes until the girls start school on Thursday. We have had a great summer. I have been working at actually being present when I hang with KK and Annie. And gosh darn it, I have gotten pretty good at this. I have reaped benefits galore, moment after moment of solid, joyful quality time.

But folks, it has not been all laughter and contented sighs. This is why I am holding my arms wide open to school and the crazy changes it brings into our lives. The kids are ready. I am ready. For as much as I think of Annie as my little baby, that big girl is dying to have a schedule and surround herself with her own people, five-year-old kids. For the last week and a half, she has been on me, and this is after almost two weeks of vacation time in Minnesota. At Grandma and Grandpa’s house, she was my sidekick extraordinaire. There was no way she was trading my lap for my mom or dad’s lap, no matter how much they love her and how much candy they have at their house.

I dried my tears regarding kindergarten after she burnt herself on my curling iron (right after I told her not to touch it). She is ready for the next stage, and I am too. I really thought I wasn’t prepared for this mental and physical leap. For most of the summer, I thought, “She does not look as old as KK did at this age.” Then wham, she wore a school uniform shirt for a day and I could see it. She is elementary school material, through and through.

I know the summer life of leisure — sleeping in, swimming at outdoor pools, hardly cooking, and the bright-burning seven o’clock sun heating my skin on the back porch — will soon be a memory. Kindergarten is coming for my meditation partner; seriously, every time I try to meditate, she finds my lap and we get calm together. The moment of change is upon us. I wonder if the world planned to make me yearn for distance from my Loveland girl. It’s a tricky way of adjusting myself to a huge parenting planet step. Effective though. Bring school on. I’m more than ready.