April 12, 2013
It's official. My daughter, my little baby girl, is now registered for Kindergarten. Yep, she starting in the fall, so I have that long to work on not balling my eyes out when I take her to class the first day. I waited in line in the cold to get her in the school I wanted. But when it was my turn to go into the office, I could feel my eyes welling up. I held it together, good thing too, because I didn't want my daughter's future principal to think I was a basket case and one of "those moms" right off the hop. I totally am, but it doesn't hurt to let the staff at my daughter's new school to get to know me first.
At first I really couldn't figure out where the tears and the lump in my throat were coming from at the thought of my little monkey starting Kindergarten. I mean, there's lots to choose from of course. The big one is that she is growing up. She's not my baby anymore. It makes me feel old, since I clearly remember the day I started Kindergarten myself. But I think the true reason for my mopey demeanour at the thought of her marching into school on her first day is that it is the first day of her letting go of me.
For five years I've been it in her life. I was the one who feed her, changed her, dressed her, played with her (okay well, the better half did too!) We were the most important people in her lives. And she always will be the most important person in our lives. And it's not that I think she's not going to love me one day after Kindergarten. I just feel like that's when she'll really grow up and time will march on even faster than it has these last five years. She'll make new friends, get busy doing new things and I'm excited for her about what the future holds. It's just the selfish me wiping those tears off my face, realising how quickly it will all go by and wanting to relish each moment.