a letter to my kindergartener

my tunic | jeans | boots
Bear's sweater | jeans | boots


Dear Bear,
I cannot believe you've been in kindergarten for 2 weeks now, and I'm still fighting tears every morning at 7:50 when I drop you off at car-line. It's a bittersweet feeling, watching you grow like this. On one hand I'm so proud of the boy you're becoming- independent and funny and smart. On the other hand, I still see a newborn baby when I look at you (despite your size) and want you to stay little and at home with me forever. That's selfish of me, so I give in to the requirements of society and send you off to school for 8 long hours each day, missing you all the while but knowing you're where you need to be. Your teacher is super sweet and patient (I don't know how she does it), so I find comfort knowing you're in good hands.

The past 5 years have flown by faster than I ever thought they would, and most of the time I find myself wishing for a do-over. I could have taken you to the park more, taught you to ride a bike, given you more of my attention while I had you home with me all the time. I miss those days. While I have to admit, the peace and quiet of the house from 8am-3:30pm everyday is somewhat nice, I have to distract myself from wishing you were here to fill the silence with your laughter and joy. I miss you asking for snacks every 3 minutes and coloring on the coffee table. I miss you waking up on your own every morning and coming to climb into bed with me. I miss you being my trusty sidekick on trips to the mall and Chick Fil A lunches. I miss you here while you're at school. I'm pretty sure Boonester does too, because he's been especially fussy this morning as if to say "I will not make this transition easy on you, Mommy. Bring Bear home". And I wish I could go pick you up right now so we could build a fort and watch movies in our pajamas all afternoon. 

It's not like I don't see you- I get you for a quick 20 minutes or so in the morning and again from 3:30pm until bedtime. And of course we still have our weekends. But knowing you're in school now- real, bona fide public school- is so hard for me to wrap my head around. As much of denial as I'm in, there's one thing I know for sure. And that's that I could not be any more proud of you. The reason why my heart wants to explode when you hop out of the car and walk into school each morning, your backpack bobbing up and down and your hair a little bit Alfalfa style because we were running too late to fix it, is because it hits me how big you are. How independent you are. How you don't need me as much anymore- you can walk right into that school now without any help and I long for you to want Mommy beside you, holding your hand. But you're just fine on your own and while that kills me a little, I'm bursting with pride. My first born, the boy that made me a Mommy, ready to take on the world. One day of kindergarten at a time.
I love you, Bear Clayton. 
xo, Mommy