Tomorrow is the first day of school for my kiddos. The oldest is starting third grade (the year the dreaded testing begins), and my twins–my babies–are starting kindergarten.
There’s no doubt in my mind that both are ready for this new thing in their lives. They’re smart, friendly, polite, and independent. I’m so stinkin’ proud of them that I feel as if I’ll burst sometimes. I don’t think I was ever as brave about starting something brand new as they are right now.
“I can’t even wait, Mama.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that phrase over the past several days.
This new thing… it’s a big one. They don’t realize how big yet, and thats probably a good thing. I’ll be the one overwhelmed at how difficult it’s going to be for them to learn not only a new language but also everything else required in kindergarten. I’ll fret over knowing that it’s no longer 98% up to me what goes in their sweet little ears and their innocent, blue eyes. I’ll worry about whether or not Susie and Billy play fair and if the teacher will do something about it if they don’t (she will, btw… she’s awesome), or worse if they’re the ones not playing fair! I’ll mourn over slowly losing bits and pieces of them to their teachers and counselors and friends.
It’s not so bad, really… it happens gradually. You don’t even notice until one day you blink and you have a third grader who thinks he knows everything and sitting in mom’s lap for two minutes is about 118 seconds too long. And who doesn’t want that????
Plus, there are so many things to love about starting school–watching your kids learn something new, how proud they get, seeing them read, hearing about their new friends, the excitement in their voice when they get a good grade or go on a field trip or it’s pizza day.
So tomorrow, when they put on their new outfits and I walk them to their classroom at their new school–the place that they’ll spend more of their time than anywhere else for the next six years–and I hand them over to their teacher–who they’ll spend more time with during the week than me–I’ll try my best not to cry as I give them a big hug and then let them go. They deserve better than that. They deserve to see how much I love them and how excited I am for them to start this new adventure.
I’ll save my tears for after. Probably come home and smell their dirty laundry or something equally gross while I snot-sob everywhere. No matter how ready they are, no matter how excited I am to go grocery shopping by myself and actually have real chunks of uninterrupted time to write, I will mourn. No one needs to tell me how blessed or fortunate I am that I’ve had three beautiful and healthy and intelligent and happy kids. I know there are so many people who aren’t able to enjoy this miracle, so I try not to complain. But tomorrow I will weep for the loss of what was…
Watch out, world… my babies are coming for you! And I have no doubt in my mind that all three are going to kick some ass and take some names. ❤