"How old are your kids?"
"5 & 7"
"Oooooh, so he's 5? That means your baby is starting kindergarten..."
"Yup!!!"
"How are you going to handle that? Aren't you going to be sad? What are you going to do?"
I'm sure to many this is a farmiliar conversation. At this point in the conversationI never really know what to do. I used to just answer with my honest thoughts, but from experience I don't anymore. When I was honest one of a few things happened. I got looks of confusion, disbeleif, or disgust. So either I am totally foreign in my thoughts, lying, or just an awful mother.
As I ponder these choices I am left to wonder if I am alone in my thinking, or if other moms, just like me, avoid speaking our truth in order to fit in. So for what it's worth, here is my truth...
"How am I going to handle my baby going to Kindergarten?" I am going to be happy about it! Not because I will have days to myself, or more time. Not because I won't have to constantly be playing legos or building play doh castles. Not because I might actually be able to keep my house neat for more than 3 consecutive hours... Based on some of the reactions I have gotten, I feel that some think I am being selfish when I am happy about my baby being gone all day. I must want more time for myself... How could I possibly want him gone?
This is the point where I wish people would just ask.. "how could you be happy??"
My answer would simply be: "It's not about me...." I think people assume that I won't miss him. Of course I will miss him. I will miss the random leg hugs I would get while doing the dishes. I will miss snuggling on the couch on rainy days watching movies. I will miss his still baby voice talking to himself in his room while playing with his pirate ships he loves so much. I will miss all of him every moment (well almost every moment). Because of circumstances that cannot be avoided, I have been forced to learn that missing someone and being sad do not have to coincide. How, even though I will miss him dearly, can I be happy?
I can be happy because I know what is in store for him. I know that he will spend hours talking with and playing with other children. I know he will have an amazing teacher this year that will push him and love him. I know that he will become more confident in his very able self that he has put aside to let mom be mom. I know that he will finally "get it" that letters put together make words and that if he knows how they sound he will read. He has been so excited about learning how to read. I know that he will have a chance to try things and make mistakes instead of having mom try so hard to fix things before mistakes happen. I know that each day without me he will become more "him" and less "mine."
This may be the point I so frequently fail to make clear when I try to fumble a response to what sounds like: "wow, you aren't sad? What kind of mother are you?" What I wish so honestly to be able to explain, while feeling like I should be sad for some reason, is that he is not "mine."
From the moment that little plus sign appeared to the ultrsound that showed us all his "boyness," I knew that he wasn't mine. He was, is, and always will be a gift to me. He is not mine to do with as I wish, but a gift from God. I have been entrusted, as a mother, to try my best and fail miserably sometimes, to guide him to be the man that not I, but God would be proud of.
Guiding him includes holding him as a baby with unconditional love, playing endlessly for years, reading stories, and slowly letting go. School is just one small step in that process. Will I be sad? Probably. Will I see him walk in and want to grab him one last time? Of course. But I will be happy about all of it because I know he is growing up and it is all part of being a mother. I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to keep him for myself. He is too good for that. Even at 5, I know he is something special (I'm sure all moms say that). But he is. He is going to be great I just know it, and why would I want to keep that for myself when he has the potential to touch so many others on his way?
So what am I going to do with my baby in Kindergarten? I 'm going to be happy. And no I'm not delusional, or selfish or neglectful. I am hopeful, proud and confident that he is at the beginning of what will be a long and bumpy ride to becoming an amazing man.
