I dropped her off for her first day of Kindergarten this afternoon.
I am the mom of a school aged child.
I don’t so much mourn the fact that she’s growing up (although it could slow down and I wouldn’t hate it.)
It’s that I am supposed to be hugely pregnant right now.
Addie going to Kindergarten was always the benchmark of pregnancy. Cody would have been out of law school for over a year. We would have health insurance. The surgery and hormone treatments I underwent would do their magic and I’d be walking Addie to the doors of Kindergarten with a huge belly. She’d get to tell her class about her soon to be brother or sister, I’d get to fill out those blank spaces under “other children” in the school registration packet.
The timing seemed so perfect. I’m supposed to be pregnant right now.
I fantasized about how wonderful it would be to have Addie in Kindergarten for a few hours everyday while I was at home bonding with a new baby. A few blissful hours of uninterrupted new baby time everyday. Then Addie would come home and hang out with us. Then Cody would get home and we’d be a lovely little family.
But I’m not pregnant. Nor do we have health insurance. But Addie is in Kindergarten.
And Addie is enough. She nestles right down into all those empty and broken places in me and fills them perfectly. Sometimes she even leaves a little sticky residue of peanut butter and a glow in the dark silly band lying around.
I love you my little Kindergartener. You were made for this kind of stuff.
photo by Kim Orlandini
You make my life more lovely and complete that I ever could have imagined.
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