It's been a few weeks, that's all it's been. That Tuesday marked the end of a big chapter, and the dawn of a new chapter in my life as Mama.
It was the last day of preschool for my third and last child. It was the end of a five-year run at our parent-participation school. To sum it up, that's a lot of friends, fellow parents, beautiful children, all of whom span a spectrum of personalities that have shown me not life as it should be, but life as it is. I appreciate the yearn for "should," but I have certainly learned to embrace "IS." With love and admiration for our littlest people, our next generation, I hope I never forget this eternal mantra:
Embrace Life As It Is.
Prior to that Tuesday I had already had my moments of bittersweet sadness, so I was ready (รก la Spongebob), with strength and happiness, to face the day that marked the end of preschool for my daughter (and for Oh-so-selfish Me.)
Little Sophia's carpool buddy was dropped off at the same time as any other day, like it was any other day. I took photos for the memory books of these two little pals outside running around the tree. I corralled them into the car for the last ride to school. Clicked into reverse and turned on the tunes. The little ones have no understanding of the end of preschool. Luckies!
I reversed out the driveway while, no exaggeration, the beginning of this song filled my ears... name that tune in three notes, I knew it, and I knew I could no longer pretend that this Tuesday was like any other:
When the night has come,
And the land is dark,
And the moon is the only light we'll see,
No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid,
Just as long as you stand, stand by me.
For the fifteen minute drive to school I lapsed between fog, daze, and tears. I thought about how this preschool was created for the kids. Yes. True. But I was also thinking of the parents I had connected with. Friendships that began with casual hellos and friendly complements like, "Your kid looks awesome in that LedZep black T... reminds me of when..."
Just five years. Some have moved out of state. Some have or are facing serious health concerns. Most are struggling with an uncertain economy. Working Moms, SAHMs, Hover Moms, Soccer Moms, Single Moms, Super Moms. (Feel free to apply these titles to Mr. Moms, too.)
With my mind filling up with all these memories, this Taxi Mom was still able to answer the important questions from my two little co-passengers on our way to Ice Cream Day at preschool.
Mama: "Yes, of course, I was once a Pirate Ship Captain of the Sea. Such a silly question..."
Child: "Mommy, I said, is there mint chip ice cream for me?"
Mama: "Oh, right, yes, ice cream just for you... made by pirates...just for you..."
Just five years. I have met many, many great kids. Many Mini-Inspirations. And their parents. Some of whom—obvious to the outside world—my family would have not crossed paths with if not for this little preschool. I try my best to keep in touch with the special ones (the ones who unconditionally accept me and my family.)
I have helped coax little rambunctious tots to sit still on the learning mat. I have hugged a parent after an unimaginable chemo-treatment. My GalPals and I played Tooth Fairy together, giggling while spraying glitter on a dollar bill for a one-tooth-less child whose parents could not attend the summer camp out. The doors of my friends' homes wide open for my own kids, while I needed something for just me. Likewise, my friends' kids enjoy play dates with us. I hope that Super Mom or Mr. Mom relish the breather, a little bit of time or sleep... these are silent gifts.
When the night has come,
And the land is dark,
And the moon is the only light we'll see,
No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid,
Just as long as you stand, stand by me.
XOXO Breeze
