Ah, it's that time of year when I know damn well it won't be fall for a long time, but I so hunger for it that I feel a bit of outrage every day that I leave my house and the outside isn't behaving with any eye toward the autumnal. I can't help it, it's my favorite season, and so fleeting. And like spring, it's shorter each year to the point of near extinction (thanks again, global warming!). It's futile to rail against the weather. But it is... what it is.
That said, there's so much to look forward to in the period between now and the onset of winter that I'm both downright giddy when I look at the calendar, and in no rush for it all to pass. In addition to the chilly air and turning leaves and wealth of pumpkin beers, I've got tickets to see my reunited favorite band, and there's a small jaunt to the state of Kentucky (a first for me!) to celebrate a dear friend's nuptials, then Mike's delayed 40th birthday trip to Mexico, then my birthday and Thanksgiving, which is my fave of most things in life. Also on the near-immediate horizon, with a bit of apprehension on my part: serious potty training, navigating preschool registration, and HR's first haircut. It's funny about that last one, I have no attachment to my own hair, I get it hacked off on the regular, but something about the idea of my boy without his wild curls breaks my heart a little. I know it'll be good for him in that we won't have to comb through snarls and it won't be getting in his eyes, but his hair taps into my parental sentimentality the way that things like giving away his infant clothes didn't. I guess we'll get some professional portraits taken (about time, we did the last ones at six months), then off to the chop-chop shop. After the first one's out of the way, the rest should be a piece of cake.
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