Drivers, start your engines!

No, not race car driving...life racing! It seems like every year by late July I am so ready for school to start. I guess I forget how extremely crazy these days get with all the driving back and forth to various places. I do enjoy fall and the cooler weather and especially apple season, but I am not a big fan of the driving kids to and from school, church, activities and the like. I catch myself thinking that in _________ number of years I will not have kids to transport, or subjects to teach, or asmuch laundry to do, or whatever the activity/chore may be. I know I will miss these days...I already find myself wishing back those busy, high energy days gone by. Last evening, Mr. Accountant and I went to an apple orchard. There are very few orchards in our area of this state that grow Macintosh apples. These apples happen to be the favorite of everyone in this house. This particular orchard is one we frequented every weekend when our kids were all under 12 years old. I remember playing on the hay stack, taking a wagon ride, walking the wooded trail, picking apples and buying cool things from the store and snack barn. I always wanted to live in a setting like that. We stopped patronizing this orchard when they began charging simply to walk onto the grounds. While we certainly expected to pay for merchandise, fruit and wagon rides, we disagreed with paying just to walk around a trail or play on the hay, especially since we always bought something while we were there. They currently charge only on the weekends so last night we made the drive there to get freshly picked Macintosh apples, compliments of Mr. Gameboy. The memories flooded as soon as we made the turn onto the country road and into the property. Strangely, though, the haystack didn't look as big as it did years ago, the trail seemed more full of mosquitos then fun, and we probably would have looked ridiculous climbing onto a hay wagon for a ride. Time has a way of changing things that once were so familiar, but my memories are always the same...boys and girls in jeans and workboots, climbing a haystack and daring mommy to throw them off. Now, Miss Musicwriter is not even living at home, and while she loves her dorm room, I miss her tremendously. Mr. Gameboy works two jobs and has no time for hay climbing. Mr. Well Rounded is busier than I can keep up with and lately has also been quite moody and disrespectful. Miss Bookworm, well, she has grown up beyond going anywhere with us that doesn't involve taking her to a friend's house. Yet, despite the fact that all of them have grown, they still expect so much of me. I guess it is what the role of mom is made of. Now, off to work on school subjects with Miss Bookworm before taking her back to the high school for musical auditions...then pick her and Mr. Well Rounded up for a quick dinner and then to church for youth group. Let the race begin.