Our son is finishing up 7th grade this week. I find this astonishing on many many levels. I can't be old enough to have a child in 7th grade. I once thought he wouldn't make it through 3rd grade, and here he is successfully navigating junior high. I don't know how we got here -- I swear the little guy was just a toddler playing in a baby pool, and now he can almost look me in the eye.
Being a parent causes a strange sort of time shift. You are suddenly ruled by the academic calendar again. I don't get summer vacation, but our son does. The rhythms of our life change every June, and again every September. We shop for swimsuits, or school supplies. We shift the time we leave in the morning, and the time we get home in the evening. There is an ebb and flow that is almost tidal, each year sweeping in and drawing back out, over and over again.