That’s right you read that correctly I not only have a teenage son who is a freshman I also have a daughter who just had her first day of kindergarten. A couple weeks ago I sent them their separate ways and I think I can safely say that letting go of the high schooler is proving to be more difficult than his younger sister entering elementary school.
This is me on my first day of kindergarten back in the days before they had uniforms or Gap. Pictured next to me in the Raggedy Ann dress is my painfully camera-shy neighbor Kristen, you don’t know how rare it is to have a photo with her in it. Most of the photos I have just show her as a dark lump behind my parents massive wood grain floor speakers. We were in the same kindergarten class because back then there was only ONE. No ‘early bears’ or ‘late bears’ no combo classes, if you were 5 you went to kindergarten and you rode a bus. Nowadays the only buses my 5 year old sees are in books, our schools don’t have the budget for public transportation anymore, can you believe that?
So we all have to get up a little earlier now.
This is what time we leave to take Super B to high school. My daughter is usually screaming that she’s cold and she’s angry as I throw her over my shoulder and strap her in for the 30 minute round-trip. It’s not the end of the world but it’s not that great either. I’m looking forward to the day he drives. On this day I warned him, there will be a gate photo. Look how happy he is.
Every year for the past 10 years I have taken a photo in front of this gate. We moved in just before this big guy started preschool and we haven’t missed a year yet. I’m still trying to piece together the entire series you can read about last years first day of school here.
Note to self don’t switch lenses every year. The one of the right was taken with my 24-105, probably somewhere right around 35mm, this year I used my 50 1.2 which crams everything into a small space. I lost some depth and scale, but I think you can still see the MASSIVE change that has occurred.
My boy is as tall as I am now. Six feet. I am hardly the parental threat by sheer height anymore.
Before you know it he flew out of the car, cool and calm (on the outside) leaving me to wrestle with a his not so relaxed sibling. At this point we have exactly 45 minutes to get home, dressed, fed and out the door. Ready-Set-Go!
“Momma, this is you all the time why? just stop taking my picture.”
Ok, well what if I get in it then?
Untill she realizes she doesn’t have her homework. My heart sinks, first parental failure moment is already here and she hasn’t even stepped foot into the classroom. I assure her tomorrow is fine and then promptly misplace her into the wrong line up.
I think I managed to return 1 phone call, fire off three emails and fold one basket of laundry and it was already time to pick her up.
Now a few weeks into the routine it still doesn’t get any easier in fact as the days get shorter and mornings are even darker I find it almost impossible to wake even my earlybird. I’m thankful for my Nespresso machine and the fact that I get to work from home so I can be the chauffeur, short order cook, maid whatever they need. I’m really trying hard to embrace what time I have left with the teenager, watching my friends as they struggle to pack up sons and daughters for college I keep thinking how next to impossible it will be for me (and it WILL almost kill my husband for sure) to let him go. In a way I’m glad for the long pause between kids this means I get to put off the empty nest syndrome for 9 more years. Not a bad deal.