TWSS team member, Jenette Jurczyk is sending her oldest to kindergarten. All together now: awwwwwww!
So, here I sit. Alone in the dark kitchen. The night before the first day of Kindergarten. I have to say, I haven’t given too much thought to the gravity of this moment. I’ve been too busy to sit with it and let the reality of it wash over me. Yes, I’ve been getting the dozens of emails from the school and from your teachers. I am well-versed on the drop off process and homework expectations. But none of those emails prepared me for this moment.
Not even five years ago, you were my baby girl. Dependent on your dad and me for every moment of every day. Tomorrow you will run so far ahead of me as I try to gather all the things and quickly get out of the driver’s seat of our mini-van – purchased mostly because of this pending moment – that I will have to do that awkward mom trot just to keep up. I will see the ends of your hair whipping around the corner as you dart in the direction of your new classroom. And in that moment, it will hit me. It’s your first day of kindergarten.
Everyone says the same thing when you have pre-schoolers, “It goes by so fast.” “Don’t blink.” “She’ll be grown before you know it.” There is something so profound about this moment. You’ve been excited for weeks. Practicing your morning routine. Helping me shop for snacks for your lunch bag. Trying on new headbands and bows in your recently cut-to-your-shoulders-for-your-new-big-girl-hairstyle.
And as I sit here, taking long slow breaths, trying to wrap my head around what tomorrow brings, there is only one feeling that is the tiniest bit stronger than the fear, dread and denial that are brought on by the realization that you are so big now. Above all, I feel pride. Pride that you know who you are and are eager to see all that is waiting for you in this wide world. Pride that you can handle all that this fun and challenging year will throw at you. Pride that at the end of every long day, you still curl up in my lap and whisper words of love for your mama.
And, I know it’s time. It’s time to let go, so you can be more than my baby, my toddler, my little girl. It’s time to be all the big girl you can muster. Just know that I am here, ready to listen as you share the adventures of your day. Swallowing back the fear, dread and denial. Aching with pride and love as I chase you around the corner on your first day of Kindergarten.