Tomorrow is the first day of school. Sydney, dressed in clothes from the junior's department, will stand flat-footed and look me in the eye, say something like "Bye, Mama. Remember you're not allowed to hug me at school," and walk into 5th grade. Ivy will hug me, reluctantly then enter 3rd grade in her multi-age class, where, for the first time in her life, she will be the oldest. The "Big Kid." The Example. And my sweet little peanut Isadora, my last baby, will get on an actual yellow bus, wearing a full-sized backpack, and be driven to kindergarten by someone other than me. After I meet her in her classroom a little while later and make sure she knows the morning routine, I will leave her (in the the best hands) for 6.5 hours. She will play pretend without me, she will eat snacks and her lunch without me, and she will begin the journey that will teach her all of the things I cannot.
I was ridiculously excited about this day for so long. Until this morning, when I saw other people's first day pictures and realized that this is It. We enter a whole new phase of life tomorrow. Gone are the preschool pickups in the middle of the day, the Mommy-daughter lunch dates while sisters are at school, and all of the one-on-one time we could handle. We are now parents of School-Aged Kids, and nothing else.
As I sit here weeping, grieving the phase I didn't think I had the time or patience to fully enjoy, I am trying my best to remember the things I won't miss about the past 11 years. The "mommy I'm bored" I heard 15 times per day. The whining and begging filled trips to the grocery store. The lack of time to work out. The constantly messy, dirty house. The never-ending negotiating for playdates.
The past few years have been filled with an embarrassing number of hours of fantasies about what my life will be like with all three girls in school. I watched, mesmerized and practically drooling with envy, as other parents dropped all of their children off at school or the bus, imagining what their days would be like. Days that belonged to *them.* Now I am there-- I am finally that parent!-- and all I is want to give some of my days back to my girls.
Once drop-off is achieved tomorrow, and I have cried in the corner for a little bit with a few of the other moms, I will go on with my day. I will meet my friend for coffee that I will be able to sit and enjoy without interruption. Bryce and I will spend a few fully-awake minutes catching-up with each other, and I will do a grocery shop where I only buy what we need and no one begs for anything. The hours will go quickly before it is time for me to pick the girls up from the bus.
Eventually, we will all grow comfortable with our new routine, and I will work hard to find ways to make the few hours we spend together while awake more worthwhile. Right now I am grappling with yet another inevitable transition. I guess kids aren't the only ones who struggle with major developmental milestones.
As maudlin and conflicted as I feel at the moment, by tomorrow afternoon I will probably be clicking my heels, joyfully celebrating my new freedom. I take comfort knowing that I am not the first parent to have these issues and I certainly won't be the last. I am proud of the people my kids are becoming, and as emotionally draining as it is for me, I know we are all ready to move on to the next phase. Hopefully this phase includes a clean house....
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