Two years ago, Smartmom was obviously feeling a tad blue. Back then, TS was on the cusp – just begining to morph into being a teenager. It was a tough time for SM: TS’s last year in middle school with high school on the horizon. She’s feeling much more cheerful now. He’s a different person now – bigger, wiser. While he is still in need of a great deal of supervision, he is  also beginning to grow into his teenage self nicely. Some things have changed: the Mojo is no more and OSFO and SM aren’t reading "Charlotte’s Web" anymore at bedtimes. We’ve moved on to other things.

Tonight at bedtime, Smartmom read couple of chapters of E.B. White’s
"Charlotte’s Web" to OSFO and Teen Spirit (he for the umpteenth time),
and was struck once again by this poetic and poignant passage at the
beginning of Chapter 15. "The
crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer’s ending, a
sad monotonous song. ‘Summer is over and gone,’ they sang. ‘Over and
gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying.‘"

Unfortunately, we can’t hear the song of the crickets  in Park Slope. It’s possible that there are some crickets in Prospect Park or The Brooklyn Botanic Garden. But we can’t hear them above the hum of the neighbor’s air conditioners and the noisy traffic racing up Third Street.

Fact
is, we really don’t need crickets to tell us that summer has come to an
end. There are already too many reminders that its leisurely days have
been replaced by our action-packed, high-speed lives.

Ever
since Smartmom and family got back from their idyllic California farm
vacation in late August, summer has been, as E.B. White wrote, "over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying."

First
there was the Republican National Convention, which rocked the city
with an outpouring of anti-Bush, anti-war protests. Then came the
aniversary of September 11th, which has now become the official end of
summer for most New Yorkers in the way that it signifies the loss of
innocence that came with the terrorists, the rubble, and the mournful
white ash.

Then there was the start of school. Groan. The
children never look forward to getting back into the swing of things.
But it’s the parents who really dread the return to tension-filled
mornings, homework, and the other stresses of school life.

Still,
autumn is probably the most beautiful season in Park Slope. Slopesters
are blessed to have Frederick Law Olmstead’s magnificent park when
summer is changing into fall. And on the Slope’s tree-lined streets,
the multi-colored leaves mesh pontilistically with the brownstone, red
brick, limestone and stained glass of this 19th century neighborhood.

In
other ways too, the Slope welcomes the change of seasons. The stores on
Seventh Avenue are festooned with Halloween costumes, ghoulish make-up
and party decorations. And at the facing Korean markets on Garfield
Place, there are dueling pumpkins, gourds, and autumnal flower
arrangements.

But fall also brings with it the realization
that the children of Park Slope are growing up. Last year’s baby’s are
this year’s toddlers. Yesterday’s pre-schoolers are lining up at PS 321.
Elementary begets middle school And perhaps most shocking of all, an
inordinate number of the kids of Park Slope have become bona-fide
TEENAGERS.

Has anyone else noticed the huge crowds of just-hatched teens around The MojoPS 321.
As the mother of a 13-year-old, perhaps Smartmom is particularly
attuned to this age group. Consequently, she spends a prolific amount
of time spying on them fascinated as she is by their outfits (grunge
meets punk meets goth meets psychedelic); their habits (some are
smoking and it ain’t just tobacco); and their big-time ATTITUDE.

And
many of these Slope teens are, well, huge. Over the summer, the girls
became women and the boys became men. And it’s just so freaky. They
look like stretched-out versions of themselves as children. But, truly,
they are not children anymore. How quickly the years sped by. Just
yesterday they were being pushed around in McClaren strollers on
Seventh Avenue sipping from sippy cups and eating string cheese. How
did this happen?

As Joni Mitchell wrote,  "And the seasons, they go round and round…"

Fortunately
OSFO and Teen Spirit still enjoy lying in the big bed listening to
Smartmom read "Charlotte’s Web," a book that depicts a magical
childhood on a farm, a world away from 21st century Park Slope. They
love to hear the story of Fern, a girl who understands the language of
a pig, a spider and the other animals in the barn.

Smartmom
knows that OSFO and Teen Spirit won’t always want to read "Charlotte’s
Web" and that one day they too might be hanging out in front of The Mojo
(Teen Spirit is already growing out of the nest in some ways). But
Smartmom is so grateful for these bedtime readings, these loving
cuddles before sleep. She knows that Teen Spirit and OSFO will change
and grow. That’s the way it goes. Just not yet, please. Not yet.