Across the country there are mothers drowning their sorrows in chocolate after dropping a child off at college. You may see them at the gym, eyes red and swollen, trying to work it off and avoid going home to an empty house. So, in comparison, my “problem” may seem trivial.
I’m having major anxiety about sending my second born to kindergarten. It’s to the point that I’ve looked into home schooling. There are two reasons I could never follow that path. First, I don’t have the patience. Second, I still count on my fingers and couldn’t name all 50 states on a map. (Those middle ones are tricky) How could I possibly teach?
So, tomorrow my sweet boy will head to class. Everyone keeps telling me that “He will love it” or “He will be fine.” I’m not really concerned about him. He is a smart, outgoing child. I am worried about me. I will miss having him come up to me during the day and say, “I love you Mom.” (Of course that is after punching his sister and spilling red Gatorde on my carpet) I won’t be there to see his dimple appear when he smiles upon discovering something new. Who will hug him if he falls or his feelings are hurt? I know, he’s not being sent to live at an orphanage with Annie. He will be surrounded by caring teachers, but it won’t be me.
I suppose having another child reach this milestone makes me realize how quickly time passes. My daughter will be next. She is already so independent. Then, before you know it, I will be comforting myself with chocolate, too.