Today my wonderful friend and roomie (we will be rooming together for the second time in a row at BlogHer in August) Jennifer, of Mom Made it Look Easy, is here with a sweet guest post for you all, while I’m hanging out at an undisclosed beach location, perhaps sipping some sort of fruity, spiked beverage. Find Jennifer on Twitter and Facebook too. I promise you’ll love her (and I know some of you already do!)
As moms we celebrate all of the firsts. The first smile, the first time our babies roll over, the first little tooth that breaks through, the first steps they take… All of those milestones call for a celebration. We scream our precious offspring’s achievements from the rooftops, or at least all over Facebook and Twitter.
But what about the lasts? The last tooth that comes in, the last time they say “hold you” instead of “hold me”, the last diaper, the last time they crawl into our bed at night… Those things seem to slip by with little notice. Lately all of those lasts have been weighing on me.
The first day of Kindergarten (almost two years ago) I was a mess. I’ve never been a very sentimental person, but getting pregnant unleashed an emotional monster that had been coiled in my chest. It ran rampant that very first day I dropped my baby off at school and drove away.
I was worried this year would bring that same beast out of her cage, but it didn’t. I took her to school, met her teacher, got a tour of her first grade classroom, and drove away one proud momma. This year was a breeze. Right up until that last day of school.
Last Friday I picked her up from daycare, and as I drove away I looked at her in the rear view mirror, “So I guess you’re a second grader now,” I said with tears burning the back of my eyelids.
“Are you excited about that?“
“Oh yeah. It’s going to be great.”
“Well is it okay if I’m a little sad about it.“
“Are you sad your baby girl is growing up?” I nodded as tears threatened to spill over. “I’ll always be your baby Mom, but it’s okay if you need to be sad.”
I turned the corner and a tear silently slipped down my cheek.
Goodbye first grade.