Tomorrow, my baby is going to kindergarten. And like every parent, I just can't believe it.
Just under five years ago, Dylan and I used to go to the coffee shop together on Friday mornings for a cup of coffee and a danish. I'd carry him in and he would grin that toothless baby grin at the barrista, and then point at the ceiling fan and say "ta!" (his word for "fan"). On Wednesdays I'd take him to "Baby and Me Yoga," and I always had to bring his bouncy chair along because his patience for the activity lasted only half as long as the activity itself. And I had to warn all the other moms not to step in the puddles of drool. Dylan was a drooler.
And tomorrow he'll put on his brand new backpack, stuffed with a binder, some folders and some gluesticks, and I'll drop him off at kindergarten. I just can't believe it.
Sometimes I think I've cheated myself by having my kids so close together. If I'd spaced them three, even five years apart, would that have put the brakes on time, at least a little? It seems like I'm so busy with each new baby, and simultaneously so busy cleaning up after the older kids, disciplining them, cooking, doing mountains of laundry and mediating disputes that I don't have time to slow down and think about how to enjoy my children. So they grow up fast, way faster than they ought to.
Do parents of single children feel the same way? Surely there won't be a single mom standing there in the doorway of Room 7 thinking to herself, "wow, her babyhood seems like eons ago ..." When it comes to our kids, do we all perceive time as passing way too quickly?
I'm proud of Dylan. He's grown up so much in five years, but I have a hard time accepting that the next five years will pass just as quickly, and the next, and then next ... before I know it I'll be standing there in the doorway of Henry's new kindergarten class, and then it will be junior high, high school, and then I'll be driving Henry to his dorm room at college and that will be that. Kids all grown up.
Congratulations, my little kindergartner. You've come a long way, baby.
Just under five years ago, Dylan and I used to go to the coffee shop together on Friday mornings for a cup of coffee and a danish. I'd carry him in and he would grin that toothless baby grin at the barrista, and then point at the ceiling fan and say "ta!" (his word for "fan"). On Wednesdays I'd take him to "Baby and Me Yoga," and I always had to bring his bouncy chair along because his patience for the activity lasted only half as long as the activity itself. And I had to warn all the other moms not to step in the puddles of drool. Dylan was a drooler.
And tomorrow he'll put on his brand new backpack, stuffed with a binder, some folders and some gluesticks, and I'll drop him off at kindergarten. I just can't believe it.
Sometimes I think I've cheated myself by having my kids so close together. If I'd spaced them three, even five years apart, would that have put the brakes on time, at least a little? It seems like I'm so busy with each new baby, and simultaneously so busy cleaning up after the older kids, disciplining them, cooking, doing mountains of laundry and mediating disputes that I don't have time to slow down and think about how to enjoy my children. So they grow up fast, way faster than they ought to.
Do parents of single children feel the same way? Surely there won't be a single mom standing there in the doorway of Room 7 thinking to herself, "wow, her babyhood seems like eons ago ..." When it comes to our kids, do we all perceive time as passing way too quickly?
I'm proud of Dylan. He's grown up so much in five years, but I have a hard time accepting that the next five years will pass just as quickly, and the next, and then next ... before I know it I'll be standing there in the doorway of Henry's new kindergarten class, and then it will be junior high, high school, and then I'll be driving Henry to his dorm room at college and that will be that. Kids all grown up.
Congratulations, my little kindergartner. You've come a long way, baby.
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