And so closes another chapter...

Time marches on, with or without me.  Two of my three kids outgrew the swing set. Hannah could have still used it, but it was starting to need repairs, so I gave Josh permission to disassemble the swing set. Need to destroy or demolish something? Render it unusable? Josh is your man.

I watched as a part of their childhood, piece by piece, got taken apart. As usual, when Joshua starts any project, half the neighborhood showed up and wanted to help. I'm not sure what magic he weaves enticing kids to work, but I probably could earn a small fortune renting him out to parents with reluctant children. They looked cute out there, all those kids, struggling with tools, using their minds to figure out how best to break it down.

Meanwhile, I silently mourned, the same way I did when I packed or gave away another box of their baby clothes.  It was the space ship, a club house, and an obstacle course. Often, the monkey bars became Joshua's thoughtful spot. He'd sit on top of the bars to get away from his pesky sisters. Sometimes I'd just see him laying on top of there, all stretched out, eyes closed, while the chaos of neighborhood kids ran all around him. I always wondered what was going on in his mind.

I have a yard now. What am I going to do with it?

Joshua already has plans. A goal cage here. Or maybe over there, so he can practice his defensive moves. I'm sure Jake from next door would be happy to take shots.  I'm not so sure my OCD senior citizen neighbor will be quite so happy about it. It doesn't matter much if he gets to set up a place to play soccer, Joshua's thrilled he doesn't have to mow or weed-whack around the slide anymore. No longer fighting with the swings, he can make broad sweeps with the mower.  He's pumped to plant grass where little feet dug deep groves into the dirt under the swings.  I suppose it's the rare and strange child who can get excited over grass seed.

In truth, I don't expect much use of the yard from The Boy at all. With the nice weather, comes his wings. There are places to go, people to see, when you're twelve years old and in possession of a bike.  Growing up.  Those other moms were right. It happens too quickly.