A Dichotomy

Here is an upcoming momentous event that I have so far refused to process:




MY BABY GOES TO KINDERGARTEN IN 13 DAYS!!


Well, not really 13 days. She goes in to meet her teacher and for testing in 13 days, but actual kindergarten doesn't start til the 30th. But still, I'm not sure how I feel about this.

On one hand, this day came way faster than I thought it would. I knew it would sneak up on me, and it did. I distinctly remember dropping Audrey off for her first day of kindergarten five years ago, and bawling my eyes out,and being very grateful for a fat little baby sleeping in her carseat in the back. I remember thinking about how fast that little baby would grow up and turn into a kindergartner herself, and thinking about how sad that day would be. And that day, five years ago, seems more like it happened five days ago. Then I start to think about how much older they will all be in five more short years, and next thing you know, we are donating all their toys to the neighborhood day care center.

I also remember that the sadness lasted about 97 seconds. Just long enough for me to pull out of the school parking lot and realize that I now had an entire three hours in front of me with nobody but a sleeping baby to care for. I could go shopping, I could go home and read a book, I could hit the drivethrough without ordering a Happy Meal....the possibilities seemed endless, and I was a little bit giddy just thinking about it all.

So.....I know that when the day comes to drop my Livvibug off at kindergarten, I will, most likely, once again bawl my eyes out. And this time, there are no more little babies in the back seat to make me feel better. This is the end of an era for us, the first time in 21 years that we have not had a preschooler in our house. Having little kids at home feels like who I am. I don't know that I will know how to act at first.

But on the other hand, THERE ARE NO MORE BABIES IN THE BACKSEAT, sleeping or otherwise!!!!! That means three solid hours with NOBODY to take care of. And I do not intend to be the kind of mom who sits around grieving about the kids growing up. I've put in my time in the baby arena, and sure, it was wonderful. It was also a ton of work, labor-and time-intensive, and mentally draining. Now it's time to move on to the next phase in this great adventure of parenting, whatever that is going to look like. I'm pretty sure, based on past experience, that it will be messy, painful and exhausting, and sprinkled with small moments of sheer bliss when we least expect them. And it will occasionally involve three whole hours of complete freedom, and really, what can be bad about that?