The End of an Era

So.

Yeah.

Bonnie goes to kindergarten tomorrow.

What's that, you say?  Why am I acting like it's a huge big deal?

Well, because hi, IT IS.

My youngest child, my baby -- "even when I'm a grown up, I'll still be your baby, momma" -- is going to kindergarten.  All day.  8:12 am to 3:46 pm.

Without me.

Okay, I know it's the natural progression.  Kids are born, have a few years in daycare or at home and then they go to kindergarten.  That's how it works.

But, but, but...

What am I going to do now?

I left my career and I never looked back.  For me and for Tom, having one of us home was paramount.  More important than fancy vacations or a McMansion or BMWs, raising our children without outside help was what we chose even before we had kids.  We planned, we saved and we made it happen.

And now it's done.  More waking hours than not, my kids are going to be away from me.

The big kids are fine and, except for my perv paranoia, I was okay with them going to "real" school.  Now, though, it's Bonnie's turn and I'm, well, not so okay.

Jack and Natalie's early years were all about juggling the happiness of two little ones with very different interests.  Chances are, I was only making 50% of my audience happy at any given moment unless there was candy involved.  That's not a great approval rating, folks.

With Bonnie, I've had years of just her and me all day.  I could please 100% of my audience.  What a heady feeling!  It's addictive to be someone's favorite person, the source of their fun, the genie who makes wishes come true.

Tomorrow, nobody will want me to do a puzzle, go to the playground, bake cookies.

I'll put her on the bus, trudge home and be deafened by the silence of an empty house.

Holy crap.  No wonder I cried when I packed her lunch tonight.

I know, I know, there are people with real problems, she'll only be gone on weekdays and only for 7 and 1/2 hours and...

Seven and one half hours.

I could volunteer, I could get in shape, I could get a job.

I don't want to.

For a little while, I'm going to mourn the passing of the baby days.  Never again will I be the mother of young children.  Never again will I be someone's whole world because let's face it, once kids go off to school, the outside world starts turning their heads, bending their ears, changing their opinions.

Trust me, that is worth more than a few moments of silence.  TRUST ME.

I'm going from Best Actress to Best Supporting Actress.

Downsized.  Made redundant.

Never again will I do something as important as I've done the last eleven years of being home with my children all day.  Whatever they are, good or bad (and I'd like to think it's way more good than bad), is pretty much because of me.

So tonight, I'm going to shed a tear, raise a glass and take a bow.

No matter what I do for the rest of my life, my children are my greatest contribution to making the world a better place.  Their generosity of spirit, their love of learning, their manners, that's all me and and I am damn proud of them and hell yeah, I'm proud of myself.




But I'm still going to cry and want to chase the bus down the street tomorrow as it carries my baby away from me.  Hello, I'm a stay at home mom, not a saint, after all.