By now I'm a back-to-school pro. But it'll be over soon and I know I'll miss all the back to school memories

• My son Quinn is entering eighth grade this year, meaning he'll be a man in five years.
• I know that I will miss the stress of the back-to-school season once it's over.

This is my fifth to last back-to-school rush. With my son entering eighth grade, it's his final year of middle school, and in five years, I'll be preparing to send him off to college instead of shopping for school polos and locker shelves.

When my son Quinn was born, my mom told me I would have 36 half-years until he became an adult. That seemed so far away when he was snuggled against my chest in a sling. But now, it's almost there. We're almost there. They always say the days are long, but the years are short, but for myself and other parents, with kids only 10 half-years away from adulthood, the days are getting almost as short as the years.

I remember how stressed I was about the first back-to-school

I remember my first experience of having a child go back to school — when it wasn't actually back to school because he was just starting kindergarten, and he'd never been in school. Yes, he'd attended dozens of classes and camps, lessons, and story times, but it was my first journey in getting our family ready for school.

I remember taking that supply list, reading it as if it were a religious text, and carefully checking off each item after I purchased it. I remember the frantic, almost manic feeling of searching out just the right kind of scissors or ruing that I didn't get the right type of tissues for the communal classroom supplies.

I remember trying to find the exact right sizes of shirts, shorts, and pants and making sure that every pair of shorts and pants had an adjustable inside belt to fit my skinny boy's waist. After that first year, I remember additional frantic and chaotic shopping because the school clothes that fit at the beginning of June were too small by the end of August.

And I remember being so grateful when my mom friend Kelty gave me her son Max's hand-me-downs because Max was always a size ahead, so, instead of panicking, I was calm — at least about the school clothes readiness.

I remember, too, the challenges of figuring out the intricacies of school lunches, what I could prepare and pack that my son would actually eat, and once I figured everything out, his tastes would invariably change, and they would change only after I stocked up on whatever he used to love, like the time I was stuck with three boxes of frozen sushi after he told he me he no longer liked it.

Now I'm a pro and know I will miss it all when it's over

With eighth grade approaching, I'm more seasoned. I know which stores have the best sales, I know which supplies are salvageable for use this year, and I am already prepared to run to the store or pay for overnight shipping for something that was overlooked because something will always be overlooked.

I also know, deep in my heart and my soul, that in five years, I will miss the general distress and stress of everything that encompasses going back to school, including the most exasperating parts — like having to buy new folders at the last minute because I just noticed that my son's doodling has rendered them unusable for a second year.

Quinn has already moved beyond my help in many ways — he knows his tastes in clothes, he knows exactly what kind of calculator he needs for advanced math, and he plans and packs most of his school lunches. "I've got this, Mom," he tells me — and tells me again about so very many things.

I'm trying to hold on to these memories as we make them together because I know that in a very short time, that's what they will be — memories. I'm doing my best to savor them, each moment by moment, because, in 10 short half-years, my boy will be a man. He's got this, and hopefully, so will I.