Kindergarten.
The milestone of all milestones in early childhood. It's here. First steps, first words, zipping up zippers, big boy beds---none of them compare to the enormity of the milestone that is going off to Kindergarten.
What? How can this be? Though we have spent months trying to prepare our boys for what Kindergarten will be like, I guess I haven't spent much time trying to prepare my own heart, and I'm feeling an extreme sense of amazement, but also emptiness from sending not one, but two, both of, and my only kids off to Kindergarten.
It's true. It's a milestone for them, but feels like an almost bigger one for me.
I mean, wasn't it just yesterday that Dan and I spent our days praying for a child?
Wasn't it just yesterday, when I was sitting in my classroom that I got the phone call I was pregnant?
Wasn't it just yesterday that we held our breath and learned that there were two miracle heartbeats?
Wasn't it just yesterday that I held them, both, on my skin for the first time?
Wasn't it just yesterday, that we worried about apnea spells, feeding tubes, and monitors, and cords attached to impossibly tiny babies whose skin was almost see-through?
Wasn't it just yesterday we went through over 25 diapers A DAY?
Wasn't it just yesterday we tracked every pee, poo, feeding, spit up, and sleep cycle on a handy sheet of paper on our coffee table?
Wasn't it just yesterday that I seriously thought I was never going to sleep again?
Wasn't it just yesterday that our home was filled with more baby gear than actual furniture?
Wasn't it just yesterday we perfected our "bye-bye"s and pat-a-cakes, and so-bigs?
Wasn't it just yesterday we were running after 2 little chubby toddlers that never went in the same direction?
Wasn't it just yesterday that we were climbing over baby gates in every doorway? (see above)
Wasn't it just yesterday when I rocked each boy to sleep, with "key-keys" and pacis and laid them down in their cribs and tip-toed out, but I always returned just to watch them sleep?
Wasn't it just yesterday we celebrated going on the potty chair and wearing big boy underwear?
Wasn't it just yesterday we kissed them goodbye as we left them in the loving care of women named Tobi and Angel and Jen?
Wasn't it just yesterday when they wrote their names for the first time in the most perfect backwards letters?
Wasn't it just yesterday we played kitchen and choo choos and monster trucks and dress up and hot wheels?
Wasn't it just yesterday, that we were chasing after bikes without training wheels and cheering on their new found balance?
Wasn't it just yesterday we gave one more hug, got one more drink, or read one more book, just to make bedtime go a little smoother?
Wasn't it just yesterday they put their too big backpacks into their giant lockers and we wished them well for their day at preschool?
Wasn't it just yesterday that we watched them walk across the stage at preschool graduation and saw the next 13 years flash before our eyes?
Wasn't it just yesterday I stepped on a Lego? (ya, it really was).
The truth is, I am ready for this milestone, but at the same time I am not. All of these things really do feel like they happened just yesterday. And yet, tomorrow. Tomorrow is a sign of how far we've come. A sign we've made it. And I know, in 13 years at high school graduation, I will look back at this moment and say the same thing, "Wasn't it just yesterday our boys started Kindergarten?"
