Kindergarten for #4 commences in less than 24 hours. All day kindergarten, that is. The reality of our situation finally has hit me. I have spent the whole summer scrolling past other blogs about starting kindergarten, because I wasn't prepared to allow my mama emotions to bubble to the surface. If I acknowledged that other women were feeling somber about their babies going to school, I would be admitting that mine was going, too.
It was much simpler to pretend. To deny what was about to happen. To cherish our extra long summer. To savor this cushion of preparation time between preschool and the big school.
Obviously, I prepared myself for kindergarten on the required days, like during back to school shopping and meet-the-teacher-night. Because Marshall was the last of four to attend his elementary school, I wasn't nervous. I wasn't worried. We sailed through the motions of pumping him up for school, exactly as all parents do for their children starting a new grade or new adventure.
Letting on that I was sad for my baby to leave the house was never on option.
Deny.
Kids starting school in September is something they do. It's matter-of-fact. All of our other children have done it, and this guy would, too. What was there to dwell on or fuss over, really?
Dismiss.
Right when I thought I developed the most effective coping mechanism ever for sending the baby of the family to school all day, my child gradually nudged me in another direction.
Accept.
About four weeks into summer, sweet Marshall decided that he didn't need to hold my hand anymore when we were in parking lots. Each time we went somewhere together, he was less and less eager to instinctively grab my outstretched hand. The words, "Hold my hand!" were coming out of my mouth, while in the past, I never had to say anything. At first, he would oblige me. I would feel his warm and soft fingers clutch mine, and all was right with my world again.
That familiar feeling didn't last forever. Because the other kids were with us every day, he was picking up on the fact that they weren't holding my hand. He declared, "Nobody else holds your hand. I'm big now, so I don't need to do it anymore. I'm not a baby."
Inside, I knew that he was probably right, but doesn't a mom wish for all of her kids to stay as close to her as possible, for as long as...well, forever? Naturally, knowing that he would be going to school, and our days of holding hands during shopping trips were coming to an end, I still encouraged him and reached out for his hand. Each passing day of summer, I felt him pulling a bit more away from me. Letting go of me further from the entrance and running to the door without me. Reaching for more independence. Grasping to be one of the big kids.
For months, we had been telling our son that going to kindergarten meant he was a big boy. Big enough to ride the bus. Big enough to eat lunch with friends. Big enough to be away from home. Here he was, exhibiting his bigness, but his mama wasn't ready to let those fingers go.
As summer vacation came to a true close, the gates of my mind were shoved open to accept the reality of what my future days would be like. I could no longer pretend that my baby was going to be my shopping buddy or eating Goldfish in my backseat. No more rocking in our chair and reading stories. His favorite mid-morning glass of milk at our kitchen table would only happen on weekends. Lounging in jammies a few days a week...forget it.
My house would be quiet. Eerily quiet.
My car would be empty. Vastly empty.
Two nights before school was set to start, I pulled out our picture books about kindergarten. Bellies to his bedroom floor, Marshall and I read Miss Bindergarten Gets Ready for Kindergarten. Unexpectedly, my personal enthusiasm for Marshall's new adventure crept in, and when he expressed a few of his five-year-old worries, I turned on my "Pump it Up" mode once more.
A most thrilling aspect of sending our children to kindergarten is that they come home to us knowing how to read. Because he doesn't like to be left out, I used reading as my main selling point for Marshall. A smile spread across his face when he realized that he soon would be reading and understanding words and books...just like the big kids!
Marshall taking his time to let my hand go this summer was exactly what I needed to be able to let him go on to kindergarten. I know he is ready to walk up the stairs of the school bus without me, with his big brother right behind him. I'll firmly stand in the street and wave like crazy, as the doors close and the new driver takes my last baby to the big school.
If I've learned anything from my experience with blogging, it is to pay attention to the details.
Firsts.
Lasts.
All of the in-betweens which tend to go unnoticed in motherhood if we're not looking.
Our three older kids held my hand in parking lots for years, and they eventually let me go. I don't remember how those days ended. My blog, while written to lift up others, has served as a journal of our lives. Not everyone reading today has a kindergartener. Not everyone reading even has small children anymore. However, a lot of people do feel that most days run together, mainly indistinguishable from one another. Why not try journaling? You'll be surprised at how much you can appreciate the smallness of this big life you are living.
