Excitement and pride and anxiety--a potent emotional cocktail if there ever was one. I wish I could tell them that the tug-of-war-feelings go away as you get older. Or, at the very least, that you learn a certain grace through your experiences to better deal with them. But one look at me gives it all away. One look at their momma's eyes--brimmed so full with tears that a drop or two simply must escape to make room for more--says it all: that even after you get through it yourself, you will joyfully, miserably, and nervously go through it again with your children.
I am talking about the first day of school, of course. And yes, I was a bit of a dramatic child, why ever do you ask?
I'm sure they will be fine, my sudden second-grader and kindergartner. And I suppose I will be too. Didn't I just spend all summer pining for a few hours to myself to reorganize a closet or two? To keep the foyer or powder room tidy for more than five minutes? Well, I take it all back. Until next summer, that is.
Because right now I just miss these two incredibly much. I miss their noise and their needs and even their squabbles. Until 3:40 when they get home and tear up the house, that is.
This one finally figured out what exactly was going on at the bus stop. He misses them too.
Hello September. We will deal with you, but we need some time.
Sandra