The older she gets the fewer and fewer “firsts” we get to experience together. Addison goes to school, kindergarten, in a week and a half. I am walking a tight line of totally handling it and totally freaking out.
As with many rites of passage there are certain rituals one must adhere to in order to fully appreciate the new experience. And with that in mind, we shopped. We hit all the stores and she choose a few new outfits. Almost everything she picked was blue. No pink. That is a first. We also picked up the required 18 required glue sticks! Pencils and paper were not on her list, but we have the glue. So if nothing else she will leave kindergarten fully able to glue things!
Her and and I both had meltdowns during the day. She laid her head on her Daddy’s shoulders with her legs wrapped around him and her ankles locked around each other. Her tiny body just begging her Daddy to never put her down. She shuttered “I don’t want to go to kindergarten.” While I watched from the pretzel line they worked through it. She temporarily shut down and decided that going to kindergarten was my fault (they always blame the Mama!) and shopping wasn’t fun anymore. If it meant she had to go to school in her new clothes she didn’t want them. I nearly ran away to find a dark corner to curl up in to and cry. I even let the words “home school” creep into my mind. But they were quickly brushed away because I am able to admit that her and I would not survive that together!
Although he doesn’t say much as having any issues with sending our Jo-Jo off to the world, Daddy cradles her like a baby when ever she lets him, even through a shopping mall parking lot.
With that over and her favorite store on the horizon we persevered. We ended the day with totally scoring a beautiful second-hand pink, wool peacoat, that she insisted on wearing in the 100 degree heat. We cooled off with an extra huge, extra sprinkle frozen yogurt.
But I’m not ready. I’m not ready on so many levels. She’s my baby. I haven’t had enough time! At one point this week I blurted out and I told her that I wished I could roll her up and stuff her back into my womb. I may have definetly scarred her for life! She was totally grossed out. She said, “You mean I would turn back into a baby or I would be a five year old in your belly!?” Okay, honey, apparently I haven’t completely thought it through! But I mean it. If I could I would start all over with her. She is that awesome! Not un-difficult, stubborn, hard-headed, spirited and makes me what to scream into a pillow sometimes, but equally wonderful and so special. I would do these first five years over and over and over again — if I could.
In a few short days she will sit in that tiny chair. It may look huge to her. And what it represents is huge. But it will be tiny. Tiny enough to fit her tiny self. Deep down I know she will love every minute of her new day. She will adjust quickly and look forward each evening to going back. The big ol’ mama bear in me wants her to never feel fear or pain and even though it’s all apart of growing up – I know I need to let go and let her grow – but I’m not sure how. I might be that creepy mother peering in through the window all day long!
She thinks the bracelet is for her sake alone. I’ve tried to shelter her from my own anxiety and fears. Her heart is too big and she will end up worrying about me instead of enjoying herself. Knowing she will have something on her that when she glances down or touches it she will know in her own words – I will know my mommy is with me – is for my ease of mind. We found a horseshoe charm and letter beads. We each will wear them as long as she needs. A gentle reminder that I love her, am missing her every second and she has all the luck she needs around her tiny wrist.
I love you baby. And I am so thrilled to watch you in this new stage in your little life. Just like everything else, you will totally rock it!
Comentarios