A week ago my kids turned five.
2 weeks ago they started school.
Considering I am usually quite the emotional mamajama [I've cried at Kill Bill, you know], these milestones did not affect me the way I thought they might. I had originally imagined that the first day of school would be bad, really bad. I just knew the ugly cry would come out, snot and all, and I'd be forced to wipe my nose on the teacher's shoulder as she tried to comfort me.
I'd thought their birthday would send me into a downward spiral, one in which I might actually long for the return of pacies and diapers. Instead, that first day was downright giddy, and I actually felt comfort and relaxation, [relief even!] as we left them in their classroom. And on their birthday [and the subsequent birthday week], I was full of enthusiasm and pride .
Until last Friday, of course.
Last Friday was one of the first days in which we had to drop off the boys in the car line [the first week, you walk your child[ren] into school]. I hadn't really thought much about the difference, other than a few days worth of preparing the boys for the task of walking to class by themselves.
When we pulled into the school parking lot that morning, I was a little nervous, expecting some sort of "No way am I getting out of this car alone" sort of scenario, possibly with screaming, and maybe a kick or two. I held my breath and closed one eye [because that what everybody does, right?] as the door opened.
Much to my surprise, it was silent, except for the shuffling of backpacks, as the boys jumped right out without so much as a wink or a wave.
I have to admit I was impressed. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next in the rear view mirror.
There they were. My two boys. Walking confidently across the school parking lot towards the door. Looking so astute, so self-sufficient and self-assured with every step. Oh, the horror of it all!
It hit me all at once, crashing into me with the blunt force of a homework folder. I have five year olds!! They go to school every day!! Who am I and who's life is this?? Did i remember to turn off the faucet after brushing my teeth??
My little mommy heart broke into a million pieces.
I watched until I couldn't see them anymore. Feeling like maybe they'd turn around and run my way, or maybe, at least throw up a goodbye or something. Anything. But I got nothing.
Whiny, self-pitying, snotty, lump in my throat, mommy's getting left behind heartbreak.
How could they? Leaving me home alone to actually finish a cup of coffee and take an uninterrupted shower? How could they be so heartless to let me put my clothes on without having to referee a fight pantsless, in the middle of getting dressed? Or God forbid, how dare they leave me alone with enough time to actually get some work done?
And all of this while they trot off and get an education? Getting smarter with every passing minute? Making me enjoy each day with them more than I ever have before?
Yeah. My life totally sucks.