Oy. Ooompppphhh. Uggghhhh. I sit here sipping a cup of coffee, trying to organize my thoughts. Steve and I went on a date so I was up quite late last night, only to be woken up quite early by a neighbor boy I hired to water my plants today because I haven’t had a chance to do it. And quite frankly, I’d rather pay someone $6 to water my yard, than spend and hour or two trying to do it myself. It’s the little things in life. Except he woke me up. Sigh. He’s lucky he’s such a sweet kid. ;)

So here’s the source of my oy, oomph, ugh. It’s the coming school year. The kids start school on Tuesday. I have such a swirling mix of emotions going on here. For the first time in more than 10 years, I will have all day to myself because for the first time, both kids will be in all-day school. I honestly don’t remember what it was like to have an entire day to choose what I want to do. It feels liberating and terrifying all at the same time.

Son #2 never did all-day preschool and son #1 only did it when I was on bedrest, pregnant with #2. Ten years, folks. I may spend the first few weeks just taking delight in the fact that I could take a nap if I wanted to. I can shower when I want to. I can work out when I want to. OMG, I could eat when I wanted to and go out to lunch when I want to.

But here’s the source of my terror. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t spend lazy afternoons with at least one child. I just can’t comprehend what it will be like not having son #2 hanging around every afternoon. I feel like I may not get to see him much anymore. Like he’s going off to college at 6. lol. As it is, by the time son #1 gets off the bus, it’s four o’clock. I feel like he’s been off at college for the last two years already.

It seems like an eternity since son #1 was just hanging around. He’s going to be in FIFTH GRADE! FIFTH GRADE, PEOPLE! I clearly remember fifth grade. I remember liking boys. I remember playing soccer with the boys at lunch and recess. In fifth grade, I fell off the monkey bars doing a gymnastics dismount (a cherry drop for all you gymnasts) and ended up with my writing arm in a sling for a month. I clearly remember an art project I did that year drawing with my left hand. I remember the two boys I had a crush on and two terribly bitchy little girls in my class. I remember having good teachers and bad teachers. I have heard that son #1’s teacher may not be the best. My heart aches for all the things I can not protect my children from. I’m not sure why it’s hitting me so hard this year. Both my kids were separated from their good friends. I’m ready to kick ass and take names for that. I know they both will make new friends but for son #1, I think he’s going to have a rough year with his teacher and he has not a single close friend in his class.

Son #2’s teacher last year was…..um…..well, let’s just say she wasn’t a good fit for him and her heart wasn’t in the job. I am so concerned that if his teacher is lousy again this year, the child who loves school and loves learning will no longer love school and love learning. Son #1’s first and second grade teachers were terrible. Consequently, he began saying “I hate school” and he most certainly did hate school. With the skill of a fabulous teacher, midway through this past school year son #1 had finally stopped saying “I hate school.” Sigh. I’m not sure why some people teach elementary school. It certainly can’t be the pay.

So here I sit trying to temper my worry with my excitement over my freedom. Trying to remember that once you give birth, your heart will then forever walk around on legs not your own. That I can no longer shield my beloved babies from heartache, pain, adversity, mean children, and bad teachers. I will not be there to catch them from falling, to keep them from climbing to the top of the monkey bars and jumping off. I will not be able to stand between them and another adult, daring them to damage my child’s self esteem and psyche or their love of learning. The absolute hardest thing about being a parent is the sudden realization that you can not keep bad things from happening to them. That you are powerless to completely protect them. I think that point starts the first time they toddle off under the power of their own two feet. And the older they get, the more pitfalls and challenges they face. From higher and harder they fall. And the expectation is that I’m supposed to just sit back and turn them loose into this big, bad world.

I had thought that I would have such a hard time when son #2 started kindergarten, but I realize now that since he only did half-day kindergarten, it was still like preschool. I now realize THIS is it. THIS was the moment I’d been dreading. THIS is the moment that I send my last baby off to school. My heart is heavy with the world laid at his feet.