Here I am. Sitting right here in the middle, feeling like I've got one foot stuck back in maternity clothes, diapers, spit up, nap times, preschool and home. Lots of home. Meanwhile my other foot has been standing for some time in the pool that is grade school, homework, tests, grades, sleepovers, sports and independence. Lots of independence.
While I'm eager for the future and all of its prospects for our children, there's a nagging little something that frankly has me sad and I can't quite put it into words. Maybe it's the quiet that will come, maybe it's that I already know how little I'll see them during the day, maybe it's just the change that has me choked up thinking about my littlest heading off to kindergarten.
I try to reassure myself. They all have great teachers this year. They are all more than ready and excited. We are ready to put preschool days behind us. We've seen each year what wonderful things growth and learning are and how they, along with a safe home base help create self-assurance, confidence and exhuberance for life. But. There's still that little something. It gets lodged in my throat every time I think about it.