First Day Of School

I remember the day we brought our first tiny boy home so vividly.  Those first days of getting to know each other, of breathing in that sweet baby smell.  I remember at some point thinking, "what exactly am I going to do with you all day every day for the next five years?"  At the time it felt like the days would stretch out before us, we had all the time in the world.  Time has passed, and has taught me a lesson.  The days have tumbled by like a trail of falling dominoes, sometimes gone before I have even realized they began.  Now it's time for that first tiny boy to start kindergarten.

As this inevitable time has approached I have thought a lot about what that tiny boy and I have done for the last (almost) five years.  I've thought of days pinned to the couch or the rocker, holding a baby that seemed to be either nursing or sleeping the entire day.   The quiet mornings laying on the floor and reading stories for hours, of afternoon naps, of evenings when Daddy got home, and snuggles in the dark still of the night.

I remember early morning walks with a seven month old that wouldn't sleep past 6am, and trips to the park when all he could do was sit in the swing or eat the sand.  I've thought of first meals, and first steps.

I've thought of the first days after Cooper came home, of how he's learned to be such a good big brother.  Of trips to the library, and then trips immediately home, so he could learn that hands are not for hitting.   I've tried to remember when it happened.  When those baby arms and legs stretched and disappeared and turned into long, lean boy arms and legs.  When he left the stroller behind to ride his bike to the park, and when playing with other kids at the park became more fun then being pushed on the swing.  When the Busy Ball Popper was replaced with trains, and then Cars, and now Lego and Star Wars.

We've reached that wonderful awful day in the life of a (mostly) stay at home mom.  The day where that boy who made me a mommy is ready to go and have adventures that are his alone.  Where he will spend days learning and growing under someone else's watchful eye.  Where he will gain wonderful friendships, and where someone won't want to play with him. Where things will be easy, and hard, and happy, and sad.  Just like those lazy days of story reading, and napping, and midnight snuggles I will be right here ready to celebrate what he will learn and what he will become, ready to sing his praises, share his joys, and soften his sorrows.

"Now go have an adventure!"