August 12th — Today, Sara woke up full of questions about middle school, because “it’s right around the corner.” She wanted to know if her school locker would be one where she could program the code because she wanted to make sure she remembered her locker code. When I reminded her that she was entering 3rd grade in the fall and had several years to learn how to use a combination lock, she immediately discounted 3rd grade and said there were really only two more years until she entered middle school and could get her ears pierced and ride the bus with best friend Pauline. What happened to third grade that it got ignored and how did fourth and fifth grades pass by so quickly? The other day at a restaurant, Sara was unusually grumpy. When an amused waiter asked if there was anything he could do, I reassured him Sara was mainly upset at life that she was not 13 yet and there was nothing anybody could do to help her out of that crisis. I don’t remember being that eager to grow up. But the past year has matured our kids more than most in some ways. In other areas, Sara and Daniel seem more emotionally vulnerable and needy than their peers. The final kicker to my conversation with my precocious 8-year-old was when she asked if she would have breasts by the time she entered middle school since a lot of 5th grade girls at Hill Elementary already have boobs. I told her that a lot of physical maturation has to do with family history: when did her mother go through puberty? I wouldn’t pass along anything to do with my cancerous breasts to my daughter if I could help it but has the damage already been done? What legacy have I unwittingly left to my children? I can’t begin the clinical trial for a breast cancer vaccine too soon after having that conversation. I remember my oncologist telling me it was good that I had a 6 year old daughter when I was diagnosed rather than a 16 or 26 year old because no telling what cures there might be in 20 years. Cure this damned disease before my children grow up!