You guys. I am alone in my house for the first time in…so long that I can’t even remember the last time I was alone in my house. I get 2.5 hours to frantically cram in as much productivity as possible before I pick Crosby up from his preschool. He could’ve cared less that I was dropping him off.
He was up, dressed and had his backpack on as soon as I said the words, “You get to go to school today!” He responded with, “All by myself. No Mommy!” I think seeing his big sister go off to school on her own every morning has been very helpful. He feels like a big boy now that he gets to do the same.
This is where I left him. Engrossed in trucks and cars. He has a morning of gentle structure, fun crafts, loads of activities and having to listen to other people besides me.
My kids, while still young, are growing up. It makes me get all wistful about babies and closing that chapter of my life. While I would love to experience pregnancy and infancy again, I would lose my mind trying to survive another toddler and wrangle three kids.
And as a little update, Addy’s loving school. She’s exhausted and overwhelmed though, which means total hysteria is always about 3 seconds and the slightest incident away for her. I’ve never seen such epic meltdowns. But this is a huge transition for her, so I get it.
I’m so proud of them. So excited to see them gaining independence, confidence and innumerable lights going off in their heads. But there’s sadness as they wander off on their own with new people acting as leaders and counselors and new experiencing shaping them that I don’t get to witness. I used to know (and control) their daily activities. Now I just hope to hear a little bit of what went on in Addy’s world for the 7 hours that she was gone. As a stay-at-home-mom, I immersed myself in my kids. This is a hard, yet welcomed, separation from each other. We were all ready.