single mom

Fin.

Today, I greeted my preschooler for the last time. In only a few hours, I’ll be saying goodnight. After today, my little boy closes a chapter in the book of growing up. Tomorrow, he’s a schoolboy. Tomorrow. The curtain is closing.

I don’t think the magnitude of this day had occurred to me until I lay in bed last night thinking about it. I woke up this morning without much thought on the subject, but as soon as I heard dinosaur sounds down the hallway it hit me. And what really hit me was that the mornings spent as a dinosaur in his bedroom will be over before I know it.

How did this happen?

I’m not too proud to admit that there have been days when I wished his childhood away. The nights I sat up with him while he cried, or fed, or both; the “what time is it, oh my god can anyone be awake at this hour” mornings when I just needed a few hours to rest; the afternoon trips to the grocery store that went so off-track we left without buying anything. I wanted it to hurry up. I wanted it to get easier. And it did, but it got harder too.

I wasn’t scared for him to start school. I raced out and did the back to school shopping thing like it was no big deal. I never questioned his readiness. Nope. He’s so ready, I’d say. It will be such a great time for him, making new friends and being challenged a bit. I still think he’s ready and that he’s going to rock it because I’ve watched him grow and excel and fall and get up, and then offer his hand to the kid who fell with him. I used to worry that he wouldn’t be ready. I think I should have worried about getting myself ready.

Which I will do today. When I buy 20 boxes of tissue and some Visine.

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