Everybody's dancing but me

This is the week of the happy dance in the Cincinnati area.
School starts Aug. 24 in our district. Some schools started last week. Others start this week.
Parents all over the region are clicking their heels high in the air.
They are doing jigs, popping their joints, sliding gracefully across the kitchen floor.
Not me.
I haven't even bought school supplies yet.
I'll be dancing away Sept. 9 when my twins start preschool. I adore those little guys and they are a blast, but I get nothing done when they are around. They will go for only four hours a day, two days a week.
We'll all benefit from that.
But I'm finding it hard to let the older kids go this year.
I'll be honest.
I have great kids.
My oldest son is nine and my daughter will be eight this month.
Eightty percent of the time, they get along beautifully. They are each other's best friend. When they do argue, it's never because one was intentionally cruel to the other.
They don't do that kind of thing.
And they are really smart: book smart and people smart.
I can talk to them about grown-up stuff and they understand. I can explain the impact of their own behaviors and they understand. They are sensitive and empathetic, so much so that I often have to remind myself that they are children.
And when they are gone, I miss them.
Two weeks ago, they went to Pennsylvania for seven days with my husband for their grandfather's funeral. I'd never been away from them for so long before and I quickly came to appreciate how much they help me around the house and with the twins.
Yes, they have their moments.
Sometimes, they are so whiny I just want to scream.
Sometimes they decide to do "experiments" and they destroy my kitchen.
Sometimes they find every reason possible to avoid going to bed and when 9 o'clock turns into 11 o'clock, I'm ready to tear my hair out.
But there is one other thing that tips the scale in their favor, no matter what else my older kids might do:
When their friends ask them what I do, they don't say, "She makes us dinner." They don't say, "She drives us to school." They don't say, "She cleans the house, takes care of the twins or does the dishes."
They say, "My mom writes books."
My mom writes books.
That's what they say.
Nope.
I just can't feel the rhythm of that happy dance.