To my Kindergartener
When did you grow up little one? This all happened too fast. Here we are on the brinks of Kindergarten and all I can think about is how fast this all happened. I wasn't ready for this; no one really prepared me for it.
People say so often, "It flies by so fast," but when you're in the brink of sleepless nights and never ending baby spit up, nothing seems to be going by too fast. In fact, at times I wished for you to grow up and overcome whatever hard stage we were in (like terrible twos) but here I am wishing you still had chubby baby cheeks and short curly hair.
It seems just yesterday you were drinking from that cute little sippy cup that you used to throw everywhere. Now here you are telling me, "I can do it" when it comes to putting the straw in your juice box. Sometimes you do struggle with it and then you need me, and perhaps I secretly like that.
It seems like not that long ago you were saying words all cute and funny and I thought it was so adorable that I hardly corrected you. Gosh, I can't even remember some of those words now because you're so grown and that's all so far away. Now, you speak some days as if you're in junior high and I'm just sitting there with my mouth hanging open wondering when did I start raising a thirteen year old?
You're beyond excited for school and my heart is thrilled that you are. I know this means new friends, new lessons, new challenges and a whole new norm for you. But what about our old norm?
What about all of these years of you staying home with me and learning life lessons from me? What about the days of running through the sprinklers or playing at the park while the rest of the world was tucked away at a desk, will you remember those days? Will you remember all of the snacks eaten on the front porch and the days of lazy cuddles after nap time where we just snuggled and watched your favorite movies? I pray you do.
My normal for so long has been you. You home, you here and you spending so much time with me. I provided your safety net and now someone else will (and that scares me). I buckled you up tightly and drove slowly, and now there's a big yellow bus awaiting you (and that scares me too).
Here we are, on the brinks of having our normal forever changed. Alarms need to be set, bags need to be packed and this is the real deal. This isn't preschool where we can just go for a couple of hours and come home or skip just because. This is the real deal and my heart is having so many mixed emotions about it. But...I have to be strong for you, because you're so strong.
As you go out there and create a new normal for yourself, as you make new friends and as you learn new lessons, I hope and pray that you carry the ones from our time together. I hope you always feel my love and my snuggles, even when we're apart. I hope you carry the kindness I've taught you and show it towards others. I pray you remember you're worth, your beauty, your joy and your love for yourself no matter what things are tossed your way.
I hope that when you open your snack at school that you remember all of our moments of snacks on the porch or baking cookies at home; and I hope you share yours with others who need it. I hope that when you think of me, your heart fills with joy and that you shine that joy to others.
So here's to you my sweet child, as you begin a new normal. Here's to us as WE begin this new normal together. Life is changing fast and the seasons and rhythms of motherhood and childhood change more than I think I am prepared for. But we will get through it day by day.
So go my love, shine your joy to others and bring your kindness to the table. Carry my love in your heart and turn to the warmth of my snuggles when you need to; because I'll be right here ready for you and all of the new norms that life will present. I'm not going anywhere, it's just a new norm.