I can remember last year at this time, quite vividly, having a conversation about Nate finishing preschool and going off to kindergarten. When asked if I was sad, my reply was an overwhelming no, along with the explanation that he was SO excited so all I could be was happy for him.
Well, fast forward a year to Sean's last day (today) and I am sad. I have no idea why I'm sad this time when I wasn't last time. And yet here I am, all gloomy that my baby will never walk through the doors of his preschool as a student ever again.
We have been at this school for 3 straight years now and were on the path to spend like 6 more. Not many people have the opportunity to spend almost 10 consecutive years in preschool. But we've made the decision to switch schools and the new school has their own preschool. I don't know if it's the idea that we won't be returning to this particular school that's making me feel so down, or if it's that Sean still feels so young to me. Either way, I felt like Nate was old enough... to me, Sean still feels like he's 3.
Is he really 5?
When did this happen?
Was I even watching as he went and got so big?
I am so busy with just surviving that it's not often I take the time to have mushy mom moments. Can't say that I like this feeling of total mom desperation. I am almost in a panic thinking to myself how can I possibly just keep him in preschool? What could I do to keep him trapped in his tiny 5 year old body forever? But then when I reread that statement, I find my answer. He would be trapped, and no mom wants their child to be trapped. They want them free to run, grow, explore, and experience.
So, as hard as it is for me to stand back and be happy for him today, that's exactly what I'll do. I will be happy for him because he is happy for himself... and in the end, isn't that all that matters?
Thank you Sean for always being such a good boy in preschool. You are a such a kind soul and you are so appreciated by all of your friends. I love that I can't even remember how many times I have been approached by someone who said "are you Sean's mom? Oh we just LOVE him so much!" There is no better compliment than hearing that you are so well liked by the children who you spend you school days being so kind to.
A gift from my Sean made with the help of the wonderful teachers at preschool. I am in love with this picture!
A gift from my Nate that I accidentally saw a few days early and had to help him hide until Sunday. Perfection.
My beautiful flower that Sean chose just for me.
I spent my Mother's Day, well, being a mom. There was no pampering, no breakfast in bed, no spa day. It was just me and the family and it was exactly as I wanted it to be. I broke up some 5yr old boy fights, wiped a few behinds, cleared the floor from dropped food, and cleaned the bedrooms with Claire. I would never celebrate Christmas by not doing Christmas-y things, why would I ever celebrate Mother's Day by not being a mom? It was a day like every other. Except it wasn't...
The hugs seemed tighter, the thank yous seemed to mean a little more, and the mundane chores of the day felt more like a privilege than a duty.
I never understood why Mother's Day was so special until I became one myself. It really does, at least for me, feel like it's a special day created just in my honor. A bit dramatic? Yes! But, I spend a lot of my time feeling like a servant, a warden, a waitress, or a cook. It's a beautiful feeling to know that no matter what there is one day when the world says "you're a big deal!" and I am more than happy to soak it up.
So happy Mother's Day to me, and to all of you who spent the day doing what you do best...
It has to be, how could I possibly wake up to a view like this and not start off with a positive attitude? Yesterday our local news was flooded with the story of three women that had been kidnapped 10 years ago were found, ALIVE, and in the same city in which they disappeared! Is that not a miracle? I remember seeing the vigils being held around town on the news and the father of one of the victims saying that he'll never give up hope, the flyers hanging around the city. 10+ years and they are alive and found just minutes from their homes! I can't even rap my head around how these families must feel knowing that they have defied the odds and overcome every statistic. Last night was the first night these poor girls have spent where they had nothing to fear in over a decade. The sense of relief they must have experienced must have been overwhelming.
It's not often that you hear stories like this in the news today, where the outcome isn't one of pure tragedy.
And it's stories like these that need to serve as reminders for the rest of us that there are others everywhere, not just on our local news but across the entire world, who are experiencing circumstances that are so horrible we can't even imagine them. The stories of movies that scare us or make us sad are the everyday lives of these poor souls. There are also people everywhere that have so much less and who work so much harder, and yet are so much more grateful just to simply be alive.
As I stood in my kitchen this morning with my coffee, looking out my window at my manicured lawn and my willow tree, I thought of all of these people. I was ashamed at how many mornings I have spent looking out that same window feeling sorry for myself for one reason or another. We all have our crosses to bear, but I can say without a shadow of a doubt, that I have not one single thing to complain about. I have not one single reason to not feel eternally grateful for every second that I am breathing. My life has been so very blessed and there is no excuse for me not to recognize that fact every minute of the day.
I certainly can't promise I won't every be caught pouting again, or whining that something hasn't gone my way...