In One Week

Today, after an emotional tantrum my 5 year old son curled up in my lap and buried his head in the crook of my neck. I felt his body melt into mine. I felt his pain and sadness and all his 5 year old problems laying over me in a blanket of emotions and through my sunglasses I found myself crying too. The emotion of 65 pounds covering me felt so raw and real…. My baby was growing up and no one and nothing was slowing that clock down.  I swear it was only months ago that he fit in the palm of my hands and that very same head rested in that very same crook at 3am in a milk coma. Those same feet were covered in feetie pajamas and that same head smelt of lingering baby powder and formula. It was equally sad and amazing that we managed to get to this exact moment so quickly… and I realized in that moment time was not slowing down. This would not be is the last time I found myself looking back and wondering how such a large chunk if time passed without me even noticing the days slipping away. It I will not be the last time I notice suddenly he is a different boy. Taller, more independent… a more defined person.

Upon us is a milestone his father and I have talked about since he came home wrapped in a homemade outfit from Nana. I remember shortly after his 3^rd birthday his cousin was starting Kindergarten. “2 more years” I told my husband and we both marveled at how fast the last 3 had gone by. He seemed so little to be only 2 years away from this giant milestone… and here we are that 2 years later and like a freight train it is fast approaching. In one weeks’ time I will put my pride and joy on a bus and send him away for 7 hours. I will no longer have control of his day. I know this day is a rite of passage for him AND for me. I know I am not the first Mom to lie in bed and calculate the moment. I am not the first to stare at his newly picked out first day of school outfit and wonder if it is just not good enough. I am not the first to find myself crying in the shower because it got so late so soon. I am not the first to wonder if all the years will pass this fast, or the first to wonder if I have given him all the tools to be successful. What if he can’t make friends or he falls on the playground and no one is there to help him up? What if he doesn't understand how to buy hot lunch or gets lost trying to find the restrooms down the hall? I have had the ability to hide these feelings tucked in a corner of my brain but tonight I cannot seem to run from them. Seven days just does not seem like enough time. I want to stay wrapped in the days of summer and sunshine and laughter and deny that my baby is growing up. Deny that I can no longer provide him with absolutely everything he needs. Deny that it is really time for him to spread his wings and….. fly.

So in just one short week, ONE WEEK I will loosen the white knuckle grip on my son’s childhood and let him go. But today, I will let him stay tucked into me and cherish my, not so little baby…