Labor Day, the unofficial end of summer. This year, also, the unofficial end of life as I know it. Too dramatic? Maybe, but maybe not.
And I'm not feeling so well. I could blame it on a few different things, like those tacos for dinner, but if my mom were here she would remind me that I've always gotten a stomach-ache the night before the first day of school. And tomorrow is a very big first first day of school. Lily is ready, Luke's not so sure, I'm the least convinced of anyone. Tomorrow at 7am, I'll say my goodbyes to her, entrusting her to a woman I have met for 20 minutes. At 9am, I'll do the same for him. But I will not let them hear me whine or see me cry (I'll save it for the drive home). The very last thing I want either of them to know is that Mommy isn't nearly as happy about the "big day" as she puts on. Selfishly, I wonder What now? After 5 years, what am I supposed to do now? Luke will only be gone for four hours four days a week, that's a small window in the grand scheme of things but a huge change for lives that have been so intertwined. I hope in the span of his long life, these first four years are just a drop in the bucket, but for now, it is his entire existence. I have been at his side for his entire existence. I remember much less fret over Lily's first day of preschool, but to her, school was a coveted experience. She'd been asking to go to school since she was 2 and I remember feeling happy for her, sad for me, but happy for her. Her excitement over preschool and now kindergarten is antidote to my anxiety. Luke lacks that enthusiasm, so I maintain the dread. I feel like preschool for him is a necessary evil. Much like getting immunizations, you know it's best, but it's still so hard to do.
So you're probably sick of reading me lament over my kids starting school. I don't blame you. But sick of reading about it? I'm sick of feeling it. I'm tired of all emotional roads leading to school and separation anxiety and the what ifs associated with all of this. I wish I could just shift my focus to something else. I wish I didn't feel like life as I know it ends tonight at midnight, and a new era of early wake-up, early bedtime, daily goodbyes, packing lunches, homework, and all the rest becomes our new lifestyle with or without my readiness. The change isn't necessarily a bad one, but it is indeed a change. I don't really like change. I like routine, I like comfort, I like same ol' thing.
Alright. I'm done. I don't really feel done, but it's time to wrap up. It's time to acknowledge that sending them to school is as much a part of my motherhood experience as anything else. Their teachers and new friends are sure to be blessed by knowing them. They are fun, fantastic kids with much to offer the world. Why is it so hard to keep that in mind?
I'll post tomorrow how great everything went and then we'll all move on, deal?
And I'm not feeling so well. I could blame it on a few different things, like those tacos for dinner, but if my mom were here she would remind me that I've always gotten a stomach-ache the night before the first day of school. And tomorrow is a very big first first day of school. Lily is ready, Luke's not so sure, I'm the least convinced of anyone. Tomorrow at 7am, I'll say my goodbyes to her, entrusting her to a woman I have met for 20 minutes. At 9am, I'll do the same for him. But I will not let them hear me whine or see me cry (I'll save it for the drive home). The very last thing I want either of them to know is that Mommy isn't nearly as happy about the "big day" as she puts on. Selfishly, I wonder What now? After 5 years, what am I supposed to do now? Luke will only be gone for four hours four days a week, that's a small window in the grand scheme of things but a huge change for lives that have been so intertwined. I hope in the span of his long life, these first four years are just a drop in the bucket, but for now, it is his entire existence. I have been at his side for his entire existence. I remember much less fret over Lily's first day of preschool, but to her, school was a coveted experience. She'd been asking to go to school since she was 2 and I remember feeling happy for her, sad for me, but happy for her. Her excitement over preschool and now kindergarten is antidote to my anxiety. Luke lacks that enthusiasm, so I maintain the dread. I feel like preschool for him is a necessary evil. Much like getting immunizations, you know it's best, but it's still so hard to do.
So you're probably sick of reading me lament over my kids starting school. I don't blame you. But sick of reading about it? I'm sick of feeling it. I'm tired of all emotional roads leading to school and separation anxiety and the what ifs associated with all of this. I wish I could just shift my focus to something else. I wish I didn't feel like life as I know it ends tonight at midnight, and a new era of early wake-up, early bedtime, daily goodbyes, packing lunches, homework, and all the rest becomes our new lifestyle with or without my readiness. The change isn't necessarily a bad one, but it is indeed a change. I don't really like change. I like routine, I like comfort, I like same ol' thing.
Alright. I'm done. I don't really feel done, but it's time to wrap up. It's time to acknowledge that sending them to school is as much a part of my motherhood experience as anything else. Their teachers and new friends are sure to be blessed by knowing them. They are fun, fantastic kids with much to offer the world. Why is it so hard to keep that in mind?
I'll post tomorrow how great everything went and then we'll all move on, deal?
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