When the girls were born, nearly 6 years ago now, I'm not sure what grand plans my mind had. But I am pretty sure it didn't include the rather intense amount of "Letting Go" that I'm finding myself having to do. Oh, I knew they wouldn't stay my babies forever. I wasn't dumb or anything. But I suspect that somehow I could choose to keep them tiny & precious for a lot longer that time seems to have granted me.
I'll be taking them to Safety Town this week, and those of you who know me well know that I am not totally geared up for this event. Sure, I want them to be safe. I think "Safe" and "Kids" go very nicely together. It's not that. It's that it is one step closer to "Let Go" day (aka Kindergarten), and I'm none too thrilled about it. For all the fun I know they'll have, I find myself holding them a little tighter these days. Wanting to let them go, but not wanting to at the same time. Ready. Unready. Sure but unsure. After some intense soul searching while scrubbing the floor (isn't that when most Stay-At-Home-Moms seem to do their soul searching?) I assessed that if it were socially acceptable & healthy for them, I would keep them right here with me, glued conveniently to my hip. I'd always know just where they were. Who they were with. What they were doing. Handy, yes, but lucky for everyone it is neither acceptable nor particularly healthy for me to handle it that way. So out they'll go. Fly birdies fly. But.......one step at a time, please. I can't do it all at once. I'm not meant to, I don't think.
Safety Town marks the first tentative step. (Let's hope it lands on solid ground.)