It’s the night before school officially begins. I thought it was going to be a breeze, but I was wrong. All this time I was sitting here thinking how easy this was and how I didn’t seem to be upset, at all, that my youngest was going off to Kindergarten. I’ve been thinking about how I haven’t freaked out like I did with Lukas, and how I haven’t made neurotic lists of all the things that could hurt/maim/kill her like I did with Lukas, but really it was just a distraction from how I truly felt deep down inside.
It wasn’t until I started really thinking about how this is kind of the end of an era that I started to get emotional. It’s so strange how it quietly crept up and completely overtook me. My baby is going into school and the days of spending all of our time together are gone for good.
Bob was right. The times they are a’changin.
In the meantime it seems like my oldest is growing up even faster, going into the fifth grade and becoming a young man. He spends almost all his free time with his friends, and he no longer needs me in the way he once did. I see the beauty in this, of course, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that it still hurts, just a little. No one ever told me that watching them grow up would be as painful as it is magical. How funny that something can make me so happy and yet so desperately sad at the same time.
I have the memories, though, and that’s what matters. Lots of memories. Endless evenings with Lukas in my arms, rocking back and forth in the rocking chair by the window as I hummed God Bless America to him. Goodnight Moon read over and over and over again, so many times with both children that I don’t need the book to read it to them anymore. Care free days of playing and dress up.
Tomorrow a new day starts, a new era. An era of learning and growing. The kids will both find their own little niches, their own personalities, themselves, and for that I’m thankful.