WordPress is of the opinion that this is my 1,000th post on this blog. I’ve been keeping track of the posts with a spreadsheet I created–for whatever reason–and think this is post number 998 instead. WordPress is probably right, but I’ll split the difference and call this post number 999. That’s three nines.
Nine is a special number, as I have a nine year-old daughter now, and I had another nine year-old a few years back. That nine year-old is now fourteen, and about to begin high school in the fall. Nine is a special age, filled with love and wonder and a sense that life is coming up to greet you, whether you want it to or not.
When you’re a kid, you want to be Ten a whole lot more than you want to be Nine. I think I started telling people I was nine-and-a-half on the day after my ninth birthday. But from a parent’s perspective, the reverse is true. I wish that Nine could last for several more years, and that all of the beginnings of separation could just hold themselves off for a little while longer.
My kids want to get on with their life, just as I did when I was their age. The world and all of its flaws and shortcomings and disappointments are coming for them, and I’ll do what I can to help get them ready for what lies ahead. But they’ll one day have to go out on their own, just as I once did. Nine is halfway to Eighteen, after all.
So I love Nine, even if Ten is less than two weeks away. I won’t ever see Nine again, at least not with my own children. I have to say that Nine has been fun times for me, and I hope for them as well. And ready or not, we’ll all have to face that brave new number–Ten– together.