It’s August and your poolside reading is here!

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    Call it a guilty pleasure, but we’re giving you permission to put your feet up and soak in the last full month of summer, right along with this issue of RFM.

    Just moments before I sat down to pen this note, our house went under contract for sale. After what felt like a million showings (really, about a dozen, but my heavens, the cleaning seemed endless!), a family fell madly in love with our home of thirteen-and-a-half years and will move in the end of this month. I know I should be elated that we are over this hurdle, yet all I feel at the moment is incredibly sad. This too will pass, and the excitement of moving in to our new home will surely take over, but for now, I’m preparing for all of the lasts.

    I’m reminded of a video I recently watched with my son during his First Eucharist preparation. The priest spoke of the books of firsts that we parents often create (or intend to – you know what they say about the road to hell). There’s the first tooth, first haircut, first word, first steps. He went on to say that we can’t create the book of lasts because we never know when they happened.

    I can’t really say now when we last laughed together with Elmo, that furry friend who was once such a fixture in our lives. Or when we last read Goodnight Moon. When did they stop drinking out of their beloved sippy cups? When did they last come and get me in the middle of the night, wanting me to lie down with them until they fell back asleep?

    I worry now that the lasts will come too quickly, lasts that I really am not ready for. Last time my eight-year-old will let me hold his hand in public. Last time my six-year-old will refuse to go to sleep without someone to snuggle with. Last time I will read stories to them at bedtime. Just the other day, I was looking at my littlest one’s sweet face, loving those cute little baby teeth smiling back at me as we splashed around in the pool. And darned if just that fast, he exclaimed, “Mom, my tooth fell out! And it fell into the pool!” Who knew that was the last time I’d see that baby-toothed smile? (But not the tooth – big brother came to the rescue and found it at the bottom of the pool!)

    So now we will move on to the book of lasts in this home and pack up our memories along with all thirteen-and-a-half years’ worth of stuff (Who needs some Y2K champagne glasses? Going cheap!).

    Whether you’re at home or on the road for this last month of summer, don’t miss a second of all of your family’s firsts, lasts, and in-betweens – soak them up!