How is it possible that in just a few short weeks, you’ll be taking that first big step into the real world? Wasn’t it just yesterday that you learned to walk, with your short, chubby legs and toothless smile?
It just feels really sudden. Like someone should have warned me how quickly this would approach.
I mean, I know…they tell you it goes by so fast, but it’s like I blinked and suddenly here we are: off to Kindergarten.
I’ll put on the bravest face I can, but please don’t be embarrassed if I cry. Heck, I can barely see the keyboard right now and school doesn’t start for another 24 days.
24 days…I’m just not ready.
But you are.
A Letter To My Sweet Kindergartner
There’s no doubt in my mind that you are ready for this. You are so strong, so kind, and oh-so-smart.
I hope I’ve taught you to lead by example. To stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves. To know when to speak your mind and when to listen.
I also hope that you’re treated with kindness. To be honest, it scares Mommy to think of you braving it without me.
But I know you can and you will.
We’re in for a whole new “normal” now.
Picking out school supplies. Packing school lunches. Setting alarm clocks (gross).
A whole new normal for me, too. No more being pestered for snacks every 90 minutes. No more brainstorming activities to keep you busy while I work. No more post-breakfast cuddles while we watch Daniel Tiger.
I pray you’ll remember those cuddles, though, when things aren’t going quite right at school. When you feel overwhelmed, anxious, or just plain scared, I hope you’ll think of me and know that I’m sending all sorts of love and strength your way. Always.
Know that when I look at you, my heart aches and shines all at the same time. Because while the trepidation I feel at sending you to school is oh-so-overwhelming, I also couldn’t be prouder of the person you’re becoming.
I’m not sure how I got so lucky to have you as my child, but I’m grateful for you every day…yes, even the days when we don’t get along all that well. Let’s face it – we’re an awful lot alike, you and I, and goodness knows we’ll butt heads many times in the future.
So while your stubborn attitude and unwarranted confidence irks me at times, know that I also secretly smile about it behind your back. It shows me that you are ready to stand on your own two feet. It helps me let go…even just a little bit.
You are ready, my sweet Kindergartner. And even though I’m not (yet), know that I’ll always be here for you.
The Universe has many great things in store for you. Celebrate that, make new friends, hold onto the fun that is learning…and I can’t wait to hear all about it after school.