I literally feel the wind knocked out of me and tears forming everytime I think about Wyatt starting pre-k. It seems like it was just weeks ago that he was 3, and I was telling myself that we had a whole year before he would start school....pleeeeeenty of time before I would have to face dropping my last little sidekick off every morning to spend the day without me. Now, here we are...less than a week before his first day of school.
Just punch me right in the stomach.
Wyatt is the third child of mine to have his very first day of school. However, when each of my girls started school, I didn't have this feeling of sadness. And it's funny because Wyatt has a much stronger personality than Annslie or Madilyn did at age 4. Maybe it's because he is my last, my baby, my only son. I don't know. I do know that walking him into school next week, his tiny little hand in mine, is going to be a challenge for me. I will find a way to mask the tears until after I reach the parking lot, and then I will call Robby and cry all the way to work. (And probably a little at work too)
There is no doubt that Wyatt has the confidence of a super hero, and he will be just fine. He is shy at first but quickly warms up to people -- something he did not inherite from me. I know it's time to let him make friends and start becoming his own little person. That is the point of being a parent, after all -- right? Letting them go, baby stepping, into the world bright eyed and curious....teaching them to be bold and that they can be whatever they want to be. Of course I can't hold his hand and walk with him forever, but at this very moment, there is nothing I want to do more. It's a big building for such a tiny little guy, and it's a big day for such an emotional mommy.
Four going on fourteen going on twenty. Trust me, I know how this works. You teach them to tie their shoes, and all of a sudden, you and your spouse are discussing what kind of car you're going to buy them when they turn 16.
My sincerest hope is that I can make Wyatt feel at ease and excited about his first day, even if I am (kinda) faking the smile, pushing it through my quivering lips. It's selfish sadness....the kind moms tend to experience when they want time to slow down. {I know with 100% certainty that he will have fabulous teachers.} I ask him often, "are you ready for school, buddy?". He just looks at me with the look Robby and I recognize so well. The tight lipped "I don't want to talk about it" look. Then I remind him that he will have a fourth grade big sister to walk him in everyday and that he is going to have so much fun coloring and learning and making friends...oh, and using scissors. Something about using scissors makes 4 year olds feel so accomplished. Encouraging him and loving him are two things I know I do right.
On the other hand, I am writing this anxious report about my baby boy on my first born daughter's 15TH BIRTHDAY! Fifteen short years go today, I was an 18 year old youngster in a hospital bed with a baby girl who I was, quite frankly, terrified of. What were those nurses thinking leaving ME alone with this teeny thing, I remember thinking. This teeny thing with the most perfect chubby cheeks I had ever seen.
I asked my own mother "What if I don't know how to be a mom? What if I mess up?".
Little did I know just how often I would, in fact, mess up. Who doesn't? Let's face it, motherhood is trial and error. Here we are, 15 years later, and I can say that I have taught my own children what to do when they "mess up"....you get back up, dust yourself off, and keep on moving. It is all just a part of our Happy Chance lives. Also, I had no idea that becoming "mama" was the most natural thing I would ever do.
Happy Birthday to an enormous part of my heart, Annslie Rain.
I'm raising dreamers. How could they not be? It's a characteristic they come by honestly. Whether they are starting pre-k, turning 15, or whatever life chapter they are book-marking, I hope they will all have the courage to let go a little at a time and dream up what comes next -- the kinds of dreams that keep them up at night. They may have to pry their fingers from my hands, but I seriously can't wait to watch them soar.
