almost

it's going to be my season. my favorite season.
no schedule, no time commitments, my kids can sleep in as late as their little minds will let them.
finn wakes up early now and thinks to himself. i see his eyes staring up at the ceiling after he's called me upstairs to lay with him.
"it's 5:45- go back to sleep" i whisper.
"how old will grammy be in 40 years?" he asks quietly "She'll still look the same, right?"
"yes" i say softly.
it's going to be our favorite season.
barefoot. wild hair. tall grasses blooming in the backyard. baby birds growing in the bird house on the tree right outside of finn's window. i still picture him, ten months old and that crisp fall morning waking up and noticing the leaves bright orange. like it happened overnight. now my almost six year old. like it happened overnight.
i watch him now when he doesn't notice. at school on the playground directing a game with friends. at birthday parties playing with party goers. i watched him sit a table of kids while we sang happy birthday. the other children laughing and joking with each other, there's finn, smiling intently and genuinely at the birthday girl the entire song. the little smirk on his face, the contentment.
"he's turning into a leader" his teacher tells me and i smile, "but he's also very kind and thoughtful of other people's feelings" and my eyes fill with tears.
where is my baby. arms so fat and smooth- wrists so chubby they looked like rubberbands were in the creases. his big buddha belly and gummy smile. i'd nurse him to sleep and later look on my forearm and see an imprint of his ear.
almost our favorite season. the last one i'll get with my prekindergarten boy. before he's a fulltime student. the thought makes me lose my breath. reminding myself to inhale. am i equipped for the challenges that lie ahead. the influence. the struggles. the others. the others. inhale. inhale.
almost our favorite season. of campouts. and the beach trip with our family in that big house. pool days and dark nights lit up with lightning bugs. the smell of sunscreen. dew on the grass in the early mornings. skinned knees and dirty feet.
holding on to my boy. running away from time.
 i can keep him small if it's always summer.
let's play in the sun finn, look at our shadows.
you're the wolf. i'm the moon.