Fall.

Grade school was great school for a number of reasons. But my favorite is how it forever shaped my crazy anticipation of summer. I no longer have the "last day of school" to fuel the excitement, but somehow the excitement comes back year after year. And summer remains to be a time of amazing memory making. You never let me down, Summer. But you kind of did this year. No hard feelings.

I went back to work in May. By work I mean the kind of work that allows me to be creative every day. Demanding, yes. Rewarding? Incredibly. Don't get me wrong, I'm over the top about my job. But I finally understand first hand what I've read on mom blogs for years. Dropping your child off at preschool for the very first time is possibly the biggest heartbreak a gal can have. The days where I wondered if I'd ever get 5 minutes for a shower suddenly seemed so sweet.  Despite the newfound joy of using parts of my brain previously in hibernation - and daily adult interaction - and wearing something other than workout clothes - and lunches void of peanut butter and jelly - my summer was one big hefty does of education in balance, boundaries and letting go of a messy kitchen. Sometimes, there's just not time in the day to get it all done. It's been hard. Just last week after dropping Max off at school, I got back in my car and suddenly tears came out of nowhere. I was the crazy lady crying in her car in an empty parking lot. So yes - at the risk of pity party indulgence - it's been a hard summer.

It became exponentially harder when Max had a seizure last month. He went limp and appeared lifeless. Within minutes of the paramedics arrival, he came to - and although at first dazed, it didn't take long before he was back to his usual (and endearing) shenanigans...pestering his new paramedic friends  to play choo-choo. Long story short, we went to the pediatrician - who recommended we see a pediatric neurologist - who recommend we see a pediatric cardiologist after detecting a heart murmur. In addition to seeing the cardiologist, the neurologist is bringing him back next month for an EEG - which, how they're able to keep a toddler still for 90 minutes is beyond me. 

So all this to say, I'm not a sorry sadpants over summer's departure. Maybe not this fall, maybe not ever, but hopefully one day, I'll see clearly the benefit of this particular season of life. With pain comes growth. I'm grateful that God makes my pain sweet. I'm trying to recognize the sweetness in the midst of the pain. He's up to something grand. Something much bigger than my day to day life.