Firsts

This week has been a whirlwind. Real-life hit me hard in the face on Monday when I realized that my schedule was jam-packed with soccer practices, meetings, appointments, and obligations.

During the June and July months summer seemed to laze along. I spent the days poolside soaking up the sun and the nights staying up late binge watching Grace and Frankie, and when I conquered that, anything HGTV. Yes, I really lived the high life.

This week I began tacking the demands of my real life, not my summer life.

Not only did I need to get into teacher mode by planning, organizing, and putting my room back together, I also had the demands of my family life. This year, we have two BIG firsts happening in our family that are hitting me right in the feels. Whatever that means.

This year, Noah, my first baby, the boy who made me a momma, is going to middle school. Yes, that is right, I have a middle-schooler.

We went up to school today to get his schedule and to help familiarize him with the layout of the building. We went to his locker and spent WAY too long trying to figure out how to work a combination lock. We went to his 1st hour class to make sure he at least knew exactly where to go for ONE of his classes. We went to the gym and to the cafeteria and anywhere else that were deemed necessary by the bright yellow signs pointing us around the school.

I walked along side him and I was proud.

I was proud because of who he has become. He is an academically excellent, opinionated, silly young man. He has passions and hopes and dreams. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, and will challenge anyone to an argument concerning what he feels is right or wrong. He is a good kid. As I was walking alongside him today I felt confident that he will be succesful in middle school. I feel so much more confident now than I did bringing him into school six years ago.

Six years ago Tripp was a newborn baby. He was born two weeks before Noah started Kindergarten, and those two weeks were an adjustment to say the least. I woke up the morning of Noah's first day and got him all ready for school. His backpack was filled with all the supplies on the Kindergarten list and his lunch was packed full of his favorites. (Oh how much I've changed over the years- these days I can barely remember if there is money in his lunch account!)  He looked so stinkin' cute. He wanted to ride the bus, so when that little man of mine climbed the steps onto that big bus and waved goodbye through the window, I did what every sane mom two weeks postpartum would do. I got into my car, crying, and followed the bus to school.

When I pulled up I waited for Noah to get off the bus so I could walk him to class. Surely he couldn't do it by himself. Guess what? He could. I walked him to his class and helped him put his things away. Surely he couldn't do it by himself. Guess what? He could. I kissed him and hugged him and told him I would see him soon, and he smiled and walked over to the table that had "Noah" written on it, waved, and that was it.

Fast-forward six years, and that same little boy who I followed like a crazed lunatic is going to middle school. And that same little boy who was a two-week old newborn is starting Kindergarten.

Cue those feels I was talking about. To be honest, as a parent this transition to Kindergarten will be a little smoother for me because I am teaching in the building where my son will be in school. But even with the proximity I have to him that I did not have with Noah, I feel apprehensive about this new chapter in his life.

The difference is, the thing I feel most apprehensive about has to do with me, and not him.

Tripp is incredibly bright and can get along with anyone. He is a firecracker and will definitely be able to hold his own in any situation. Sure he will need our love and support through these next 6 years, but I have full confidence that he will excel as his brother has, and will "need" me less and less.

I, however, am not ready for him to not need me anymore. I am not ready to start experiencing the "lasts" again. You all know what I am talking about. Any parent has experienced them.

The last time he will need me to wash his hair, the last time he will ask me to lay with him. The last time I will walk him to class, the last time he will want me to sit with him at lunch. The last time he will willingly hug me in the hallway, the last time he will say "I love you mommy" as he leaves me in the morning. And I will smile and the day will go on, and I wont even realize that I have just experienced a "last". These are coming.

There is a certain sadness that comes with the immense pride we have for our babies, and that is that with every step they take towards building themselves, every year that passes, every "last" we experience with them, they are one step closer to leaving the nest.

So, with these two "firsts" happening in our family, I am working hard to cherish all of the excitement and joy that comes with a new chapter. Yes there will be "lasts" along the way, but that only paves the way for new firsts. Even though I do not feel quite ready as a mom to watch my boys grow up, I know that they will be okay, because Jason and I have loved them and given them the tools they need to succeed wherever they are in life. And I know that I will be okay too. Because even when I feel sad, the pride I have in my heart for my boys and the joy they bring me brings me comfort.

"Hold him a little longer, rock him a little more. Tell him another story, tell him a million more. Let him sleep on your shoulder, cherish his every smile. He is only small for just a little while." -Author unknown

XOXO Aly