Say Goodbye to Babyhood
(insert the tune to Billy Joel's "Say Goodbye to Hollywood" when you read sing the title)
It's official. Baby days are over. The little one is getting ready to graduate from pre-K and move on to the big world of elementary school.
It's time. I've been home with children all day for 10 years now. I'm ready. I'm ready to have more than 2.5 hours to myself. I'm ready to not have to cart kids to and from 2 different schools for a few years. I'm ready to wave to the bus and return home for a cup of coffee. I'm ready to NOT have to write a tuition check (SOOO ready for that one). I'm ready to not have to stand in line because getting your child into the class you want is on a "first come first served" basis. I'm ready to not have to figure out how to entertain a five-year-old who's ready for so much more. I'm ready for the next chapter in both my life, and his.
He's ready. Probably the most ready of all my children. Socially, academically, physically -- he aspires to school the way some kids aspire to be great soccer players or ballerinas. At least for now. He's asking thoughtful questions, ones that I sometimes don't have the answers to. He's wanting to know how to spell words and read. He says things like "do you think I'll get to do math?" None of my other children ever said that.
But I'm NOT ready for him to get too big for me. And we all know that's where this is headed. He still loves to snuggle and hug and give me kisses and tell me he loves me for no reason at all. But one day, sooner than I would like, he'll shrug me off like his brother and sister do. One day he'll push me away when I fuss over his booboo. One day he'll announce to me that logic defies my explanation of the tooth fairy and explain that it would be so much easier for a parent to just slip a dollar under the pillow instead.
And he'd be right.
I carry him more than I should. I baby him more than I should. I kiss and hug him to death -- really, it's a little ridiculous. He still has big chubby cheeks and his little baby lips. He's still soft and squishy from his baby chub. I mean, he still has little dimples where his knuckles are!
And, although I feel sad, I don't feel nearly as sad as I thought I would. I'm going to miss those things, and he's grown up way too fast, but it's OK. It's time.
He's ready.
And, therefore, so am I.
It's official. Baby days are over. The little one is getting ready to graduate from pre-K and move on to the big world of elementary school.
It's time. I've been home with children all day for 10 years now. I'm ready. I'm ready to have more than 2.5 hours to myself. I'm ready to not have to cart kids to and from 2 different schools for a few years. I'm ready to wave to the bus and return home for a cup of coffee. I'm ready to NOT have to write a tuition check (SOOO ready for that one). I'm ready to not have to stand in line because getting your child into the class you want is on a "first come first served" basis. I'm ready to not have to figure out how to entertain a five-year-old who's ready for so much more. I'm ready for the next chapter in both my life, and his.
He's ready. Probably the most ready of all my children. Socially, academically, physically -- he aspires to school the way some kids aspire to be great soccer players or ballerinas. At least for now. He's asking thoughtful questions, ones that I sometimes don't have the answers to. He's wanting to know how to spell words and read. He says things like "do you think I'll get to do math?" None of my other children ever said that.
But I'm NOT ready for him to get too big for me. And we all know that's where this is headed. He still loves to snuggle and hug and give me kisses and tell me he loves me for no reason at all. But one day, sooner than I would like, he'll shrug me off like his brother and sister do. One day he'll push me away when I fuss over his booboo. One day he'll announce to me that logic defies my explanation of the tooth fairy and explain that it would be so much easier for a parent to just slip a dollar under the pillow instead.
And he'd be right.
I carry him more than I should. I baby him more than I should. I kiss and hug him to death -- really, it's a little ridiculous. He still has big chubby cheeks and his little baby lips. He's still soft and squishy from his baby chub. I mean, he still has little dimples where his knuckles are!
And, although I feel sad, I don't feel nearly as sad as I thought I would. I'm going to miss those things, and he's grown up way too fast, but it's OK. It's time.
He's ready.
And, therefore, so am I.
Comments