The End, The Beginning Again

Today is Son's last day of kindergarten. I can't believe I was so busy rushing him around that I forgot to take his morning picture! (I'll do it later and post it here.) Well, actually, I let him sleep and sleep and sleep and he didn't get up until about 7:40. His bus comes between 8:17 and 8:21. It would surely be on time today because I was not.

I got him up, the oatmeal was in an acceptable bowl waiting on the table - not too hot, not too lumpy. Chocolate milk ready to slide down his throat. He sat at the table and told me he was sleepy until I said, "This is it." "Huh?" "Did you forget? This is it!" He brightens, realizing what I am saying. "Oh yeah! I forgot today's the last day of school."

He eats, and plays. I rush about and tell him to stop playing. Then I remember I sent him to bed as soon as I got mad at him last night for throwing a pointed pencil at his sister. So this morning I have to give him a bath and it's 8:03. I'm weird. I seem to get a kick out of racing myself because I do these last-minute things knowing I may run out of time. Still I have to try, just in case I developed the ability to stop time while I slept.

I run the water and continue getting Daughter's lunch ready. He tries to play in the tub but I take over - as usual. He is clean, lotioned and dressed by 8:15. Guess what? I forgot to buy the teacher a plant last night. I grab a thank-you note I'm grateful to have from notes I had just written earlier this week. I ask him what he wants to say and write it out for him so he can copy it. If I had time I'd let him do it all. He's a really good reader and he guesses the spelling of words really well. He is MY son after all! All the while I'm throwing together the last few things into his Spiderman bookbag and I even offer to tie his shoes so he won't have to waste another second. (I insist on independence when I know they can handle it so it's rare to catch me tying the shoes of a 6-year-old.) He writes it - his way, of course. The card is meant to be horizontal with the flap going up. He turned it sideways. Sigh. Another lesson in my learning to not expect to control it all. Yes, I'm a walking oxymoron - I want independent kids who do things MY way - but darn it, I try! :-)

The bus comes on time. Of course. I tell him to stuff the note in the envelope when he gets on the bus and he runs out the door to catch the last bus of his kindergarten year.

It was just yesterday I was stressing the fact that our town school system honestly expected me to put my 5-year-old on a bus with a bunch of strange chickenhead children I don't know and I'd have to kill if they touched my baby in any way. But he was happy to do it and did it like a pro - every day for the next 10 months. I think I'm going to cry again. I've only done it once so far in the 6 years I've been a mommy. It's hard; very hard to see them grow up. We laugh at the emotions of our parents but until you become one you just don't have a clue. I don't know why I'm emotional because I never liked folk hanging onto me. But I can see him now in my mind, walking away as if he wasn't breaking my heart just because he's maturing and coming into his own, turning into this awesome boy with the big eyes and sweet heart who still loves to cling to me and hold my face in his hands when he's tired, just like when he was only months old. I doubt he'll ever truly know how much he changed me and made my life exponentially better just because he exists - my first born.

Take your time, September. You can wait just a little longer, 1st grade. I think I need to just stay here awhile and enjoy the moment with my baby.