Deep Breaths...Here We Go!

And just like that, we're here.  Staring at the very last week of summer vacation.  And a wonderful summer vacation it has been.  While I can't deny that I will be a little bit excited to see my floor again (and maybe even scrub it!), get reacquainted with my yoga mat (and my husband!), and go through that pile of mail and paperwork that has been steadily growing since the middle of July (not to mention catch up on this here blog!), I am so sad to see the summer of 2014 go.  We really hit our stride this summer.  At 5 and 7, Adam and Ethan are pure fun (wild animals, at times, but pure fun indeed).  We hiked and swam and sailed and visited with many different friends on many different beaches and descended on family and road tripped and read the first three and a half Harry Potter books and picked fruit and gardened and walked barefoot (most of the time) and got our city fixes and just generally enjoyed each other's company.  And though my boys are ready and excited to get back to school, their mama is left selfishly wishing for just one more.  One more week of summer.  One more summer like this, where my boys want nothing more than to be with us.  One more year before kindergarten.  Because one week from tomorrow, we will be full-fledged parents of school aged children.  No more babies, no more toddlers, no more preschoolers...no more flexible schedules or weekday adventures...no more errand days with my little shadows, or company while I clean the house...no more going out to the bus stop in our jammies and then snuggling up with a pile of books.  And wow, it's a lot to say goodbye to.

When Ethan started kindergarten, I was really nervous.  He wasn't, but we were.  He knew no one, we knew no one; we had visited his school once for a Popsicle social, at which he and his brother clung to our sides as we all tried to meet some new friends.  This time around, it's different.  At that same Popsicle social, we caught up with friends we hadn't seen all summer while the boys played with their buddies on the playground.  We knew most of the people there, and so did Adam.  He's been to Blue Point dozens of times, knows most of the people on his bus and three kids in his class.  And even rumors that his teacher is notorious for lacking communication skills, which would have thrown me into a complete tizzy the first time around, don't faze me much.  We aren't nervous this time around.  And there is a warm welcoming push behind the baby as he leaves home - not only does Adam have us, but he also has his big brother to look after and encourage him.  Several times over the last few weeks, I've overheard Adam quietly asking Ethan questions about kindergarten, and Ethan whispering tips and tales.  They've already vowed to sit together on the bus that first day, and talk about looking for each other at lunch and recess.  When we shopped for backpacks and lunch boxes, Ethan was bursting with ideas and suggestions for Adam, all of which Adam dutifully followed.  So all that is warm and fuzzy and comfortable.  

But underneath the warm fuzzy excitement buzzing around our house is undeniable sadness.  When Ethan started kindergarten, it was bittersweet, and I was most definitely sad.  But it was also an exciting beginning, a new chapter in our lives, an opportunity to get more engaged in our community.  And while I know in my head that every ending is a new beginning, I can't help but see this as the end of a really big, fun, meaningful, irreplaceable chapter in our lives.  And for that, I grieve.  And like coming to the end of a great novel and wishing the story continued, I am left longing for just a little bit more.  Just a little bit more time with tiny kids.  Just a little bit more time with them all to myself.  Just a little bit more music class and open gym and stroller walks and playdates and run swaps and preschool hours and lunches with my boys.  Just a little bit more.

But as much as I'd like it not to, September 2nd will come.  And we'll be ready.  Adam is counting down the days in big numbers on our sliding door and packs and repacks his backpack daily.  On Monday, we'll shop for special lunch treats and pack our backpacks (again) and pick out first day clothes.  On Tuesday morning, we'll snap pictures and walk our boys to the bus stop and take some more pictures and kiss goodbye and smile and wave and breathe deep and hold back tears.  I'll go get coffee with a good friend, get on my yoga mat, tackle that pile, maybe even have lunch with my husband!  And when those munchkins get off the bus, I'll be ready.  With dry eyes, I'll be ready to hug and squeeze them, feed them, and hear all about their very first days of kindergarten and second grade.  Because who am I to want anything more when I have all that to look forward to?

Go and soar, my little loves.  You are so ready, and I am behind you every step of the way.