I have something important to say. I am not much of a public crier. Really. Seriously. Please don't hold it against me if don't cry at your funeral. I will probably cry buckets in the privacy of my own bedroom but they will not come out at your funeral. I also find it irrational when people cry at things like weddings and first birthday parties. And, for being a theatrical kind of person, I am also a very rational person who is often confused by irrational people.
I don't cry when my kids start preschool and kindergarten. PLEASE. What's the alternative? That they died young? That they have some kind of developmental delay that keeps them from school? BRING ON SCHOOL! It means they are growing and healthy and ready for the next important milestone. I LOVE HAVING MY KIDS WITH ME but I am not going to cry over things like preschool. Come on, mamas. SAVE YOUR TEARS.
Ahem. In light of the above mentioned information, I'm going to schedule a neuro consult immediately. Something is very wrong with me. I didn't cry when my oldest boy started kindergarten and I didn't cry when my baby started either. I snapped a few pictures and internally rolled my eyes at all those mommies who were shedding tears and begging for one more hug and generally being snively and obnoxious. COME ON, MOMMIES! IT IS KINDERGARTEN! YOU WILL SEE HER IN THREE HOURS.
Unless your child is in full day kindergarten which is precisely where I'm going with this post. MY BABY'S FIRST DAY OF FIRST GRADE ALMOST KILLED ME DEAD. I walked him up and stood with all the other moms. The kids lined up, already old pros at this school gig what with having an entire year of half day school under their collective belts. They looked older and wiser than they did six weeks ago. Moms chatted and kids looked excited and anxious all at once.
Suddenly. Out of NOWHERE. What? What was happening? Something must have flown into my eye. Could it have been allergies? What in the world? Why was there a lump forming in my throat? WHY WAS MATTHEW'S LITTLE LIFE FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES?
His birth. His baby laugh. His chubby hands. His cuddles. His first day of preschool. His first day of kindergarten. How did we get here? How did all those memories string together until we managed to make it to SIX AND A HALF AND FIRST GRADE?
I swallowed my tears back down my throat, hugged him, and watched him walk through the big first grade doors. He was so ready. So happy. So big.
It hasn't been this quiet in my house since 2005. TEN YEARS OF NOISE! I walk around in it and the walls echo with silence. I clean it and...it stays that way! I play with the puppy and work on Bible studies and HAVE A FRIEND OVER FOR LUNCH AND WE ACTUALLY GET TO TALK!
I have grand plans for my life. Plans that involve substitute teaching more, catching up on Bible studies, being a better pastor's wife, keeping a clean house and waiting anxiously for a phone call telling me that we're a perfect match for another baby so that my house won't be so quiet anymore.
Because I love being a mom. I'm not the best one and I'm not the most patient one. I'm not the quietest or the friendliest or the most athletic one. But I love those boys and I love the noise they make, the living they do between these walls and I miss them when they're gone. I can't believe they've already done so much growing. I don't know know how I have a first grader.
And I really don't know how I have a third grader.