That’s right, I said it. The first day of school is tomorrow and I’m not excited.
It’s true that the girl has been driving me a little nuts with her stir-crazy, end-of-summer energy. It’s true that it will probably be good for her to see her friends and get back into a routine. It’s true that I am incredibly grateful for her wonderful school and her wonderful classmates and her wonderful teacher. That’s all true.
But it’s also true that I’m going to miss her. It’s true that I can’t help but wish that we had time for a few more adventures before I had to send her back into the busyness of the school year. A few more chances to choose boardgames over laundry. A few more days to listen to her laughing with her sisters.
She’s growing up faster than I can keep up with and it scares me a little. Proud and excited. But also scared. She’s my first and I’m not sure how to let her grow up. I’m not sure how to let her go little by little.
So tomorrow when everyone is kissing their children and sending them off with a smile, I’ll be fighting back tears and putting on a brave face for her sake. I’ll probably cry when I get to the car and look for ways to distract myself for the rest of the morning. My heart will break a little every time the toddler asks where her sister is.
And I’ll wait for the excitement to finally arrive, when it’s time to pick her up from school. When I get to hug her again and hear about her day and buy her a cookie to celebrate the start of new adventures.
Because it’s true that they are worth celebrating. It’s true that I am incredibly proud of the beautiful young lady she is becoming. It’s true that watching her grow into her place in the world is one of the greatest privileges of my life.
And it’s also true that my favorite part is when she comes home.