Growing

Tears are streaming down my face right now.  I have an hour before I have to pick the girls up from school.  I feel the need to write.

This morning as I dropped Louise off (we'd already dropped Ainsley off at her room) her May calendar for school was sitting in her cubby.  I grabbed it, along with her sparkly cowgirl boots, walked her hand in hand up to the playground, gave her curly head a kiss, and headed home with Felix on my back.

I put Felix down for his nap and looked at the calendar.  Three weeks left.  It sent me reeling.

This year has been THE year with my three little people.  Two in preschool, one at home with me.  It's my perfect version of life.

Four mornings a week my girls get to go to the best place I can imagine.  A school filled with incredible teachers, imaginative clever curriculum, safety and learning and fun.  My Felix boy snoozed and I get a few hours to myself, to exercise, to tidy, to cook, to cry too, apparently.
Our afternoons are the best.  Time to to whatever we want as a family.  Cooking and baking, crafting, singing, dancing, going to libraries and parks, the conservatory too.  Or we all  nap, stay in jammies until bedtime, pop popcorn and watch a movie or make a big fort and just tumble over each other on the rug all afternoon long.

Next year it'll all change.  Ainsley will be in kindergarten.  My first baby will be gone all day long all week long.
I can hardly type that without sobs.  Does anyone else feel this way?  I feel like all I see are parents so happy and eager for their children to grow.  So excited for school for them.  I can't make myself feel it.  I just want to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go.

I know that's not true, that I'm not the only one.  I know that all parents feel these growing pains.  But my job is my kids, handing Ainsley's care during the day time over to someone I don't even know yet just feels wrong.

I went back and found this post just now.  At first it made me cry harder, oh do I remember those tiny pink sneakers and that garage sale stripey dress that she wanted to wear every single day.
I remember that day so well.  It was our first time going to the big elementary school park up the street.  Ainsley of course went straight for the scariest obstacle, a twisty rainbow climber WAY above my head.  I had Louise in the carrier and knew I couldn't catch her if she fell, though I pretended to spot her with my hand anyways.  She was so determined, I decided to let her go.  And she did it.  Over and over again.

I hate letting go. It's gives me panic and heart palpitations.  I crave control and order and knowing what to expect.  Right now my life has none of that.  It is the hardest thing I've ever experienced.

I can handle being uncertain about somethings, I realize what's really getting to me is not being able to prepare Ainsley for next year.  Not knowing what that looks like for her yet.  In preschool you can just walk up the hall to your new class, go to school with friends you've known your whole little life with smiling teachers that you already know.  In kindergarten it's all new and big and scary.  Why do we do that to tiny people?  I so wish kindergarten was only a half day.  I so wish we could afford to send Ainsley to The Children's School.  I wish so many things right now.

For me right now this is the hardest thing about parenting. Putting aside how I feel to do what I know my girl needs.  She is ready for full day school, is bouncing off these walls all day, so eager to learn and make friends and grow.  It is I that am not ready.  It is me that cries over baby photos of her and remembers when she needed me so much.  It is breaking my heart.  It's this realization that my children will continue to break my heart that's getting me down right now.  I don't know how to let them go.

Perhaps I don't.  Perhaps I let them let me go when they're ready.  Perhaps I just hold on as tight as they'll let me for as long as I can.  Perhaps I cry while they're at school and look at baby photos and drink too much coffee, then put a cold cloth on my eyes and a smile on my face and pick them up from school.  Then maybe I forgo any plans that I had for this afternoon and follow their lead.  Sit on the floor of their messy room and dress up dolls with them and play pretend.  Perhaps I just immerse myself in their lives each moment that I can and savor it all, because it is all changing, much too fast for my liking.  I already miss what I have now.  I best give it an extra hug today.