Your dad and I have been visiting kindergarten campuses in the hopes of finding a good match for you to begin your schooling career this fall. As educators, we are overwhelmed and exhausted and even more confused than parents who have never worked in the system. Sometimes knowing too much can be detrimental. Without getting into the details of the positives and negatives of the potential schools we have toured, we want to focus on the real issue at hand here. We don’t want to lose you. We don’t want you to grow up. We don’t want your teacher to see you more than we do. We know that with age comes independence and sometimes apathy and we want to bottle your sweet and crazy and wild spirit and keep you forever in our little bottle of happiness. We know it is inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any easier. With the gracious and generous acts of your hardworking father, I have been able to be home with you for the better part of 4 ½ years. I have been there to snuggle with you every morning and make you late breakfasts while we lounge around in our PJs and decide what adventure awaits us each day. Time means nothing to us. We come and go as we please…our only commitment to make it to swim practice a few times a week. It’s a lovely life. It’s been a dream having this freedom and time with you. And it’s coming to an end. Life is full of stages and changes and accepting this is going to break my heart. I’m sure I will step up to the plate and handle this next stage of your life with the outward appearance of confidence and control. When in fact, I will be a disaster inside. I will be secretly wishing every morning when dressing you for school that we could have this day to ourselves. To explore, to laugh, to have lunch together on the corner kitchen bench and talk about all the completely awesome things we did and saw. Us…together. Instead I will hand you your lunchbox and kiss your head and hope you don’t cringe because your friends are looking.
But for now, for these final months, I will savor every moment. Every spilled bowl of cereal. Every resistance to nap. Every adventure and inspired smile. And when you whisper to me, “I won’t ever grow up” like you always do, from now I will whisper something different back. “It’s ok”.
Mom (and dad because he feels the exact same way I do)
Tech nerdery: iPhone shots only this time…I haven’t had my big girl camera out much.
Please continue around our circle by visiting the site of the amazing Jill Cassara HERE!