Going Home

On Thursday, all the angels go home (along with their parents, of course). I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, this flocking away, as though fall is here and the birds are leaving for warmer climates. I know Wednesday night will be hard. I've already warned my friends at work that I if they see me crying next Thursday, they know why...
Next summer, God Willing, each of the angels will be one year older, and one year wiser (although I'm not sure wise applies to anyone under 10, or even 20, and they're not even close. Maybe a better term would be 'one year more equipped to deal with the big bad world'?)
The two terrible two-ers will be terrible three-ers, approaching pre-school-hood, getting close to truer interactions with the world.
My oldest Angela will have finished first grade (first grade!), and she'll show off her reading with confidence and look up with that precious smile after hard words (her "did you hear that? Did you see that?" smile).
My oldest Angel just might manage to sit still a bit longer, having spent another year in kindergaarten and so becoming more familiar with desks, but honestly, this I doubt.
My little Angela won't be little anymore, she'll be a whole 4 and a half, and she'll keep doing her best "little grown up" immitations, and acting as though she's one of the big people, and pretending the terrible two-ers are her children.
I'm missing them already.