In the past week, I've cried at least once a day. Last night, I woke up from a Kindergarten nightmare at 2am and spent the next two hours tossing and turning, trying not to think about the fact that Molly was starting today. My mind meandered from what to pack for my weekend trip, to the proper way to wash workout gear, to the ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine. (FYI - I have since discovered that the crisis in the Middle East cannot be solved in the middle of the night while laying in bed in Kansas. Just so you know.) But, my brain just kept coming back to how sad I was that my baby starting school today.
Ridiculous, I know. Ludicrous, I know. Completely and utterly sappy, I know. But, still, there it is. I'm still crying in the bathroom. Gotta hide it from Molly, after all.
Here's the thing: I know Molly is going to love Kindergarten. I know that I'm going to be fine. I know Charlotte and I will find fun stuff to do with just the two of us.
I know this is not the first step to the end of her childhood. In my head, I know that she is still a little girl with a lot of childhood left. But, my head needs to tell my heart.
My heart just aches over the end of this time of our lives. I'm sad that for the rest of her childhood, we will be anchored in to the schedule of the Olathe School District. I'm sad that we can't have family lunches by meeting Cory during the work day. I'm sad that it will no longer be just me, Molly and Charlotte toodling around town with no concrete plans. I'm sad that Molly won't be at Papa Pancakes (our weekly Tuesday breakfasts with my dad) anymore. I'm sad that her baby book literally ends after the picture for her first day of Kindergarten. That's just cruel to us moms, right?
So, while I know that I will get used to this change in our lives, and I know Molly will thrive and grow and love school, I'm still grieving for the end of this phase. Staying home with my girls is the only thing I've known as a mom, so it will take some time to adjust to this new phase.
I will get to the point of being ok, I promise. I swear, I will. In the meantime, just give me a little freedom to cry a few tears. And, please don't laugh at me?
So, without further ado, the reason you're probably really reading this. Pictures from the first day.:
A couple weeks ago, we went shopping for some back to school clothes for Molly. I don't know what it is about plaid that screams back to school to me. It's that whole Catholic school uniform, I guess. That, or too many times of watching Girls Just Want to Have Fun. Therefore: Molly gets her first Kindergarten picture in the sweetest plaid skirt outfit around.
|I really wanted a picture of Charlotte and Molly, but Charlotte would not cooperate. She would only cling to Cory, so we got a dad and his daughters picture instead.|
|Me and my baby. Pre-tears.|
|Neighbors Sarah and Ella came out to watch the happenings, so we borrowed Sarah to take a family picture.|
|My three favorite people in the world.|
|Molly sitting with all her classmates around the green cone. She is in the green class. We painted her fingernails green yesterday to match her class color.|
|Molly was super excited when she found out she had Mrs. Clutts. She had met her during Camp Kindergarten. She is very sweet and accommodating and willing to take pictures with all the kids for all their parents.|
I managed to get through walking to her to the school without tears. But, when she walked away from me, holding her kindergarten nap mat, her lunch box and her giant backpack - well, I kind of lost it. I didn't show her, though.
The school had a little breakfast for the parents of Kindergarteners in the school library after drop-off. I did OK during those presentations until the school counselor started talking about the Kissing Hand book. If you don't know what that's about, you should look it up. Then, you can see why I was struggling to hold it together. We also got to write little notes to our kids that they will give to them in the afternoon. I thought that was a sweet touch. After all that, I went up to ask the counselor a silly, little question about drop-off tomorrow. I opened my mouth and just started bawling. I felt ridiculous. Luckily, the counselor was very sweet and understanding. Although, I could kick myself for forgetting my big, hiding sunglasses for the walk home.
After the whole drop off scenario, I self-medicated by meeting fellow Kindergarten first time mom, Leigh, at Starbucks. Then, we got pedicures. I was still sad, but at least my toes are pretty, now.
I'm going to go pick her up in a half hour. It has, of course, started pouring rain for our walk to the school. It seems God is showing me that he understands my tears. Being in the middle of a huge drought, there clearly can be no other explanation for the rain.
Regardless of the rain, I still can't wait to pick her up, hear all her stories and get a ton of hugs and kisses. This is our life now, I better get used to it.