Boys....

This was supposed to be the summer of nothing.  The first summer that we could relax, sleep in, and embrace whatever the day brought to us.

Or not.

Summer.

The way it should be.

Instead, you both landed your first jobs.  Dressed in uniform shirts and wielding biweekly pay stubs, my dreams of finally giving you the first real summer of your lives walked out the door... promptly at 8:35 each morning.  Gone was the last opportunity for a summer of no responsibility.  But, like many things over the years, you've both always had your own plans, changing the rules on me just when I thought I had it figured out.

So here we sit, the night before school starts.  The humidity outside has dropped off.  The mums are starting to bloom.  There's a lull in the air, a regrouping of sorts, as all aspects of the neighborhood seem know it's time.  Our last big conversation was about the best manner in which you have found to clip your toenails, signaling that we have indeed, run out of things to say.  There's talk of Christmas lists already and the quiet humming of a carol was heard while we rearranged your room and cleaned through the old bus and hallway passes.

High School.

I will not claim to sit here and wonder where the time went.  I know where it went.  I was there.  Every pain staking, heart breaking, "Sweet-Jesus-I-swear-I-will-drop-you-off-in-your-underwear-if-you-don't-get-dressed-this-second" moment.  I am not sad those days are gone.  I do not miss them.  And while some will say they have gone by too quickly, I assure you the days you have ahead will go by even faster.  And that's okay, because by no means will these be the best years of your lives.

You will watch friends change into people you will not recognize.  You will make new friends with people you've always known, but never knew where there.  You will have your hearts broken, and yet will love again so much deeper it will have been worth it.  You will fail.  Epicly.  Yet you will try anyways, making that one time you succeed just as epic.

You will think I am stupid.  You will hate me.  You will never understand how much I understand this...and what you're going through.  There is nothing you can say, or think, that will change who I am to you.  I am your mother, your sounding board, your greatest advocate, your softest punching bag.  And when we are past these years, you will not need to feel sorry for your childish ways, because I will understand that too.

Stay strong in your convictions, you are not the only one making good choices.  You never know who is watching, feeling the same as you, just waiting for someone else to be strong enough so that they can stand beside them. Be smart about your bad decisions.  Lord knows, High School is full of them.  And know that home will always the softest place to land when life knocks you on your ass.

New schools, new administration, new classes, new demands, new ridiculously early bus stop.  But it's all the same, really.  Just get through the day, like you have for the last 10 and 11 years.  One day will turn to 30, then 60, and before you know it, 180. They will not all be good.  Most of them will be ordinary. But they are all the small working parts in the making of who you will be.

I write this now, as I'll likely be half asleep when you leave in the morning. But I will send you off, just like I always have, never saying to have a good day, but rather to make good choices. Because any day can be "good", but choosing to make a day great, sets you up for making a life worth living later.

Enjoy tomorrow boys, soak it all in.  Enjoy the next 180 tomorrows, full of choices.

Choose wisely.