Lately, I feel like I hear this sound over and over in my head. Why? Let me give you a few visual hints:
Hint #1
Hint #2
That's right Cyber Bears, it's time for SCHOOL.
Brother Bear starts Kindergarten in a mere 2 weeks. I should be thrilled, right? Dancing in the streets? Counting down the minutes until I can shove him out the minivan door into those hallowed halls of education?
But, I'm not. Instead, all I can hear is that dreadful countdown music. And, to be honest with you, I'm surprised by that!
I vividly remember My Mother Bear on my first day of Kindergarten. I'm the baby bear cub of my family. My Mother Bear teased me relentlessly that she was going to stand at the windows of my Kindergarten class and cry, "BOO HOO HOO!" Once I entered the class, I refused to look at her for fear of seeing her crying at the window. I'm being punished for that now!
You see, my time at home with this amazing, precious, bossy, brilliant, stubborn, strong willed, kind hearted, confident bear cub is coming to a close. It's like I've been given 2 weeks to live, and I'm rushing around trying to make sure that I cram everything into that 2 weeks.
Okay. Maybe I'm being a wee bit melodramatic. But, that's sorta how it feels.
Since the day that bear cub took his first breath, he has basically been by my side. I gave up a career that I enjoyed (and was occasionally good at, and - oh yeah - MADE MONEY doing) so that I could be with him 24-7. And boy, have I been! I was there for his first smile, coo, walk and words. Together we conquered breast feeding and breathing issuses, strong wills, and temper tantrums. I think it is possible that I've learned more from him these past 5 years and 11 months than he has from me.
And now, I have to share him. And let him go.
I realize that it's not like I'm sending this cub off to college. But I am saying goodbye to and era, and ushering in something new (and, um, unknown). I'll no longer be the one he relies on for the majority of his day. Between the hours of 7:50 a.m. and 2:50 p.m., if he needs a hug, a cuddle, a smile, a book, or a band-aid, he won't get it from me. And that, I must mourn.
But it isn't all weeping and nashing of teeth around here. Why? Because in the midst of my mourning, I know this one thing: he is ready. He is ready to face a new challenge. To make new friends, to learn new things. This is what I keep repeating to myself over and over. He's ready, he's ready, he's ready....
I just wish I was.
Oh Paula, I know exactly how you feel. I go through the same thing every summer right before school starts. I blogged about this very subject on Friday... There's a part of me that wishes I was one of those mommies who was pushing my kids out the car door while the car was still rolling through the school parking lot, but that's just not me. Regardless of how you may feel right now, you are ready. You really are! Now if only someone could convince me of that too! :-)
ReplyDeleteI cried like a baby, walked 20 feet down the hall and turned into my classroom...This is a good thing. It's a sign of growth, health, maturation and proper social and emotional development. You have spent countless hours ensuring that his wings work. It will also give you something you haven't yet had...5 days a week from 8-3:00, you now get Katherine!Don't worry! -Laura Waggoner
ReplyDeleteOh, Paula, you're not being too melodramtic at all. You've voiced perfectly the poignant emotions of the ends of eras that accompany the parenting journey. One consolation...you have to say "goodbye" to some things before you can say "hello" to some new (as of yet unknown)things.
ReplyDeleteIt does get harder and harder to close eras, but the new joys do get better and better. You will "loose it" briefly on the BIG DAYS of their journeys, but I would be sad for Garrett and Kathryn Rose if you didn't. Walking with you...and rejoicing with you and Jason over your precious "tinies". As John Brashier used to say, "They will always be your tinies." And that's a good thing.