I haven't blogged in a month. I'm sorely out of practice. I've been fairly busy with life, like back to school and all that jazz. Did I mention I was terribly unprepared?
After wishing for school to start since early July, I was surprised and slightly panicked that I was not ready. I forgot how hard it is to leave my children in the mornings. And let's not forget all the drama that goes into getting them into the car to drive to our destination. I forgot how the 2 year old's chubby little arms squeeze the breath out of me. Those crocodile tears over my leaving make me cry real ones. I forgot how proud I am on the outside at the casual over-the-shoulder "bye mom" from my 5 year old. On the inside I want to go to pieces, because I feel insignificant and not nearly cool enough. I forgot how much I love picking them up from school. They both come running as if I've been gone 20 years instead of a couple of hours. I forgot how little they will tell me about their day. They'd much they'd rather watch a movie, eat a snack, or try to kill each other with spatula swords. So yes, I was caught short when my emotional meter went from frazzled stay at home summer mom to tearful school year mom of preschoolers.
I remind myself of a sage piece of advice another mom once gave me. She relayed a statement her mom told her. She said, "Think about how blessed you are that your child is ready and able to go to the next level. Think how different your life would be if they couldn't." So my tears are really tears of joy. My sadness is really shock over a new state of "need less of you today, mom."
Monday through Thursday and before too long Monday through Friday, I'll put on my drop off armor and go forward. A kiss if they'll take it. A quick "I love you." And a promise to always come back after nap. I shall walk down those hallways and not look back. They need to know I know they can do it. It's going to be a good year.