Wednesday, August 20, 2014
The Day You Went To Kindergarten
The day you went to kindergarten, I woke up late.
6:36 a.m. to be exact. Your dad was going to be at my apartment with you by 7:15 a.m.
Yep. 5:30 a.m. is going to be hard on this mama's body...just ask my hair that is now officially going on day 4 of not being washed.
The day you went to kindergarten, my hands shook while I dressed you.
Your daddy asked if I was nervous. He knows me too well.
All I could think about was that your brand new dress was no longer brand new. It had hung in your closet for weeks and you had begged me to wear it on more than one occasion. Well, it's official occasion was finally here.
The very first day of all your first days.
The day you went to kindergarten, we were late.
It never fails.
We paused briefly for pictures, I signed you in at the front door, and then they quickly whisked you away because your class was already headed upstairs.
I hardly got to say goodbye and you looked so overwhelmed and so scared.
My heart stopped for a full minute.
The day you went to kindergarten, I cried.
Briefly. But, I still cried. Even thought I promised myself that I wouldn't.
I sucked in my breath and rung my hands, as your daddy followed me quietly out into the parking lot.
He assured me that you'd be okay-that eventually we'd get this down.
I wanted to believe him, because I knew he was right.
The day you went to kindergarten, I hugged your daddy goodbye too.
Because for all our differences-all our mistakes-we're in this together. The two of us-for now.
I couldn't have made this far without him, and he couldn't of made it this far without me.
We have been able to successfully parent you to age 5 together-to your first day of kindergarten. We have raised a beautiful, smart, funny, big hearted little girl and we are both excited to see where your future is going to take us from here.
We know it will be an adventure.
It always is.
The day you went to kindergarten, I worried about you incessantly.
The minutes ticked by so slowly. Each moment seemed longer than the last.
My heart was in my throat and I was hardly able to eat a thing.
Were you getting enough potty breaks?
Did I pack the right snacks?
Did you remember to take your thermos of juice to lunch?
Were you making friends?
Did you miss me?
They assured me you were okay, and my head believed them, but my heart just wasn't so sure.
3:15 p.m. couldn't come quickly enough.
The day you went to kindergarten, I felt the change.
The pages turning as one chapter of our lives closed, and another began.
We've been through a lot, baby girl.
Just you and I.
All those days and nights I spent at home with you when you were a baby all by ourselves. All the nights I slept with you on my chest. All the tears I've soothed and boo-boos I've kissed. All the reminders to say "please" and "thank you". All the gentle encouragements to share and play nice with others.
All of the milestones we experienced together.
All those moments that were just ours.
They were preparing us for this-for growing up.
Not just you, but your mama too.
And while we've both grown up a lot-especially in the last two years, I decided today that growing up is hard.
And you know what, baby girl? I just don't think it's ever going to get any easier. Not one little bit.
But, at least we've been able to grow up together.
Just you and I.
And I wouldn't have wanted to do it with anyone else.