Life After I "Dew"

One would think that almost six months into this Kindergarten business it would seem like life as usual.  Monday, Wednesday and Friday I take my oldest down the street to her elementary building.  I kiss her good-bye, I tell her to have a great day and that I can't wait to see her when I pick her up. Everyday I sit in that car-rider line and wait until she is completely in the building before I pull my truck away from the curb.  And it's been this way since August 28, 2105.

Every day when I watch her step out of that door and head up the sidewalk to her building I lose a piece of my heart.

First of all she still looks so tiny, she is so tiny.  Her backpack is almost as big as she is yet there she is, independently walking herself to her locker to unload her homework, hang up her coat and back pack and head to her class room.  It's everything in me to not jump out of that car and help her do all of those things she's been doing for months now.

Kendall is a shy girl.  She is quiet and reserved if she's not at home.  She listens to her teachers and respects them. Sometimes she can even come across like she's being rude or doesn't want to be friends because she's too busy following the rules.  Kendall's card has been on green all year and her teachers say she is such a pleasure to have in class.  The fact that she is so timid, especially in new situations, makes me just want to go pull her out of that school and never let her go.  When I think about myself in her shoes I get scared and intimidated for her.

And, geez, I get emotional driving passed her preschool. We don't drive by it very often but when we do I, again, feel like part of my heart is missing.  That phase of life is over. There will be no more adorable preschool performances, no more field trips to the apple orchard, no more hearing her talk about dressing the frog for the weather.  Thank goodness I have Jamesy baby.

I think the reason it's so sad to watch my sweet girl leave my truck each day isn't because I'm scared for her.  It's not because I miss her.  I do feel all those things {and then some}. But the real reason I feel like part of my heart is missing when she walks away is because time.  Where has the time gone?

I'm not sure how I have a kindergartner.  I know all moms say that at various stages of life but it's true at each one.  Also they aren't kidding when they say "the days are long but the years are short".  I feel like I could get that saying tattooed across my face. My days feel long, most of the time, it's true.  I find myself running out of fun mom things to do and then I feel like I'm failing my kids.  But then I sit down when the house is quiet {so not often} and I realize I have a two {and a half}-year-old and a five {and a half}-year-old and I just want to know how?!

Time is not our friend, as mothers.  It's cruel actually.  Also is Timehop, man I have such a love/hate relationship with that app.  You mean to tell me it's been TWO YEARS since I held a teenie tiny baby?  No!  It was just yesterday, I swear.  A year ago Kindergarten was just a mere blip on the radar.  So much can change in a very short amount of time.

I really love the stage of life we are in right now. I do.  James is, for the most part, out of his awful stage that lasted nearly two years.  He's a fun boy, he really is.  He makes me laugh on the daily  and he will give me a kiss on demand, every time.  He is rough and tumble and full of energy but he brings so much joy to our family.  Kendall is independent enough but dependent enough all at the same time.  She loves trying out new tasks like pouring herself a bowl of cereal.  She has her own little friends that aren't just my friends children.  She loves to come home and tell me about her day at school, who got their card flipped and what new song they learned in music class.  The two of them have a really fun relationship and it's really cool to watch {most of the time}.

That still doesn't change the fact that every morning, when Kendall goes to Kindergarten, I feel a piece of my heart go with her.  I hope she feels it in the heart I draw in the peanut butter in her sandwich.  I hope she sees it when I put a picture of our family in her lunch box each day.  I hope she knows how much I mean it when I tell her I love her.

Man this kids getting older/parenting stuff is deep.