I never, in a million years, thought it would hit me.
I'm stronger than that, and I have common sense. I tend to think of things logically, not emotionally.
But then...this happened.
Wait wait wait...how did this HAPPEN??? That backpack is as big as HIM!
Nope, he's too little, that first step is a big one...it's too big. He needs another year. One more minute. Just one more minute of being my LITTLE boy.
You see, we assumed, at 4 years old, we still had ONE MORE YEAR before kindergarten. We thought we would have a fun-filled, friend-making, playful year of preschool to soften the transition.
When we went to register, the administrator said, "You know, you could save the cost of preschool if you just signed him up for kindergarten. He's old enough...just sign here."
*GULP*
When did my itty, bitty, incredibly little baby boy become big enough for school? We planned to ease into school - and slowly work our way up to a regular bedtime, and routine, and all those things that come with school-age kids. Yeah...we had two weeks.
Fourteen days to adjust to the school schedule.
Wanna know what's craziest about it? He's adjusted like a pro. His momma? A little (lot) bit less. I'm amazed every single day at how he comes home and has learned something new. How exciting it is to learn every day. He told me this week that his teacher taught them how to count to ONE. and he thought it was silly, because he can obviously count to at least seventeen.
I have to admit - I panicked a bit. There's no turning back now. He's going out in the world, and being his very own person.
Yes, I knew this would happen. I knew that all of the fun, and silly games, and late-night talks we have had the last 4 (almost 5) years have been leading to this. I know that if we don't come to this point, we haven't done our job as parents. I know that logically, this is exactly what was supposed to happen, and what we WANT to happen.
But, logic has so very little to do with parenting...with being Mom. While millions of little people start their first year of school every year, there is a mom standing on the sideline, panicked if he remembers to be kind to everyone he meets. Being concerned that he has enough snacks to make it through the day (he's a snacker, afterall - not a meal-type person).
Nervous that he'll tell his friends or teachers that sometimes we secretly have cereal for dinner. And, that if he does tell them, that he remembers we do it because sometimes it's just fun, and not because we are food insecure.
Scared that he will get to school, and be judged because of ME, or because of the person we've brought him up to be.
Yes, I'm aware that NONE of this is logical.
But, I'm also confident that most moms go through this.
I just never, ever thought it would be me. Who knew...I'm a regular mom, afterall...
