I find myself completely amazed that time, capable of such high speeds already, is able to speed up even further when the approach of a dreaded event draws nearer. Even as I write this, the great Cog Of Time is chugging its way around to that most dastardly of occasion: the first day of school. And not just any regular first day of school,mind you, but the girls' first EVER day of school. Bleh.
I think you'll be happy to know that I'm at least somewhat more at peace with the whole thing. Somewhat. Is that saying something? I think it is. We went out the other day and let the girls pick out their book bags. For some inexplicable reason, that shopping trip felt symbolic and important. As the girls raced up and down the aisles of bags, my eyes stayed glued to their every movement, mentally recording each "oooh" and "ahhhh" and "WOW!!", and greedily storing the data for later dates yet to be announced. (You never know when you'll need a Mental Slide Show to perk up a dull day, or remind you that your fast-growing-kids were once little, after all).
After the book bags came the ceremonious "Gathering Of The Supplies". I looked on as each picked out the glue, crayons, scissors, pencils, and markers that will fill their time at The Office. Remembering my own Kindergarten experience, I think ahead to all the fun they'll have doing seat work or being a classroom helper. I remember those days and I am excited for them. Sad for me, but excited for them.
So now it all waits. Sitting in the hall closet, yet unused by awaiting service. My eyes get a little misty every time I open the door and see those back packs in there. I envision the inevitable morning rush; grabbing a bag, swinging it on a child's back, and racing to the car. Just trying to get out the door on time. "Let's GO, girls!" But for now, everything is still. Silent. Unhurried. Unrushed. Waiting. Is there excitement in that, or dread? I think I've upgraded to "Both". I'm content enough to say "Yes, they're going to school" but am also greedily grabbing every moment I can (like shopping for supplies) for now.
People continue to tell me, "You'll be fine, mama, don't worry". But I hope I'll be better than 'fine'. I hope that I'll feel a sense of accomplishment at having brought 2 kids through infancy and toddler hood, while preparing them for school without the aid of Preschool or daycare. I'm proud to say I was here. Every minute. A part of each success and each failure. That part of me, the one whose chest is pushed out with pride, is ready to see how well they do when set upon the world en force. Of course, there is still that other part, let's call it The Inner Mommy, who is not quite ready for this momentous approaching day. Here's to hoping that the puffed out chest gal is able to push aside the whimpering sad-face on d-day........