I started to cry on the Stairmaster at my gym a few days ago. I hadn’t hurt myself. It wasn’t that I was sick and tired of exercising. I wasn’t crying in desperation about the pounds that won’t melt away. No, what brought me to tears was the image that came to mind: my older son on his upcoming first day of kindergarten.
Before going to the gym I received a call from the school to confirm his schedule, the plan to ride the bus (yikes!) and also to tell us which day he will begin (for the first two days, his school divides the class and half the kindergarten students attend the first day and the others attend the second day, they only come together on the third day).
Simply put, the thought of it all made me cry. Two years ago I could have never imagined that I would put him on a school bus by himself. But now that he’s five years old, I can see that he’s ready to ride the bus. And, as he informed me, I can’t ride it with him.
I’m thrilled he’s growing into such a thoughtful, intelligent kid. I’m even pleased that he has enough energy to fuel the entire family and then some. Most of all, I’m thankful that he still seems to love his mama with his whole heart. But this kindergarten thing feels like a huge step. Like he is really on his way to becoming a big boy.
I’m glad to be growing along with him, my tears and all.
Photo courtesy of stock.xchng