As the days begin to draw closer and closer to spring, I am reminded again that with spring comes summer.
The last summer.
In September my youngest will begin kindergarten and my days as a full-time mom will end. The change, although bittersweet, is one that I know will be a complete paradigm shift.
I remember when my oldest started kindergarten. Despite the fact that I was still very busy with two little girls at home, I still felt like part of me was missing. Like I had left my arm in the kindergarten class rather than my three-year old.
I would have mini-panic attacks knowing that I had no idea what she was up to for the entire day. I wasn’t there to protect her from bullies or help her make friends. What if she got lost?
The worst part was, she cried.
It was a million times worse because I wasn’t expecting it. My confident first born dissolved into tears every time I was forced to leave her in her fenced off play area.
As much as she wanted me to stay or take her back home, I wanted to stay or take her home 100 times more.
And then, just as I was debating switching her to half days she stopped crying and started running towards new friends and a new found independence.
When my second daughter started school my sadness was masked with the stress a child with special needs starting a new chapter inevitably brings. But now I am faced with the loss of my baby.
Spending a year alone with my three year old is an experience I know I am lucky to have. Many parents are not so lucky.
We get to spend our days together away from the stress of siblings and just enjoy our time together.
A time that is soon going to come to an end.
As happy as I am that my children are able to get a good education, I hate that it takes them away from me all day. The hours my kids put in are long and when they get home they are tired, cranky, hungry, hot mess kids. They get off the bus and all their frustrations and fears from their day are hurled at me, their safe place.
If attempting to make and feed them what would pass for a healthy meal is not hard enough, I also get the joy of helping the kids do their homework. There is nothing as torturous as trying to teach your child to read. I’m frustrated. She’s frustrated. It’s a daily nightmare.
The time before school is so precious and fleeting. We live in a bubble of unscheduled fun. I don’t have to worry about whether or not she is making friends or passing tests. Our only scheduled activity is a daily nap.
I would selfishly stop time to keep them this age if I could. Where I am their biggest influence and bully can’t touch them. Of course, that is an unrealistic goal but until September If you need me you know where to find me.
In my bubble.