When my son started Kindergarten I was so excited. He was ready to go and frankly the private preschool was killing our tight budget. I didn’t cry like the other mothers in the hall. I was dressed up (unlike my peers in pajamas and hair rollers) and ready to go out to lunch with Hubby. After 5 long years of being a full time stay at home mom of two preschoolers I was ready for a taste of freedom.
Last night, I cried. It was senior night at the football game. They recognized all the senior band, football and cheerleaders and parents. We met, walked onto the field together and had our picture taken. I was so proud of him. He is ready to graduate with an honors diploma, despite a speech delay when he started school 13 years ago.
As the senior class danced on the field for one last hooray, I just stood there and cried. My baby is all grown up. He’s ready for the real world and I am ready to change my mind and keep him home with me for another year or so. As he left the field, he reminded me he had 7 more months. I remember senior year. I had a folder with 280 days on the front and every morning I crossed one off and changed to the next lower number until finally I was down to one. He’s doing the exact same thing. He’s so ready to spread his wings and fly. I know he’s ready and well prepared, but he’s my baby. And it hurts so bad to let him go. He’s the first and what comes next is so unknown. While I am excited for him I am terrified for him at the same time.
Yup, last night I cried. Today I cry. It wouldn’t be near as bad, but next year, his sister (the one who watched the clock every day when he went to kindergarten) will have her turn. They are leaving me and I don’t want them to go.