Tomorrow J-man becomes a Kindergartener. He crosses that invisible line that moves him from young childhood into school hood, and a door to a time closes.
It is unlikely I will cry. I am not really a crier. Or at least, I am not a crier with these kind of "transition events". After all, I have been dropping him off at some therapy or another for years now. Afternoon Kindergarten for three hours is nothing in comparison to sending him for 40 hours a week of ABA. So no, I don't think I will cry.
But I am sad.
Oh, I am anxious, excited, freaked-out, hopeful, and scared too. All of those feelings are for J-man.
I am sad for me.
I am not ready for this stage of my parenthood to be over. To not have J-man be my little boy. To have a school-ager: not a baby or a toddler or a preschooler. J-man being my one and only, I am sad. So much of my parenthood thus far has been far-and-away from my expectations... well, of course it has... and while I have wrestled with that, I have also reached an uneasy peace with it. It is...and has been.. what it is, with some bitter and a lot of sweet. I will not regret a moment.
And I am not ready to leave this part behind. This passage makes me sad. I will never be this mother again... I will be his school-age mother, and it will be great and good.... but I will never be a mother of a little boy again.
This was the last weekend for that. Some bitter and some sweet.
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