I’m writing this from a still and quiet house while you take your afternoon nap (for which I am still so grateful).
I know I said I would be back in this space – to write and document and grieve and celebrate, but life got in the way once again and I simply had to be okay with scrambled thoughts in my rushed morning shower. It’s not enough, of course. Those scattered thoughts and memories and life lessons are not fit for anything less than proper documentation. And so here I sit, again, pounding at the keyboard hoping your rest will afford me enough time.
We’ve been through so much, you and I. So, so much.
I had anticipated that things would be different by now, you gearing up for your (third!) birthday – no longer an infant, a babe – but a little boy. And while they are, indeed, different, they are still so hard in so many ways. It is important to say that the struggles we have faced have only made the highs all the more noteworthy. Every moment of sweetness and joy I have snatched, tucked deep within and kept close to my heart.
You start preschool tomorrow. Preschool. I still cannot fathom how this has happened, but here we are. The clock will always continue to tick and you will grow and mature and become even more of your own person with each second of each day. We debated your readiness – you just meeting the designated age requirement by two short days. But I feel like it’s time- you are ready even if you don’t know it yet.
I worry, too, of course, about the transition. In the nearly three years you’ve been in our lives I have only ever been away from you for two hours at a time. It only ever happened once, and I remember the time and place distinctly. You were so needing of me – nursing so frequently, needing me to care and comfort you and deciding, right from your very first breath, that I would only ever be the one to be able to do for you. No family. No babysitters. No leaving.
It was taxing, of course, and I suffering physically and emotionally a great deal – but it was worth it in the end. You are always worth it. Just recently I left you with your Father to spend some much needed time away with my friends. Overnight. Cue the anxiety and tears (on my end!) You survived, of course. It was a reminder that things will be okay – that you ARE okay and will continue to be okay. It was a reminder that despite my reservations that I may have done things the “wrong” way … that you are capable and secure and will be well adjusted in the end.
The time has come now for you to start your own journey. I am so proud of the person you are, the little boy you are growing into, and the man I know you will become.
You are ready, even if you (we) don’t know it yet.