FIRST DAY

New Beginnings

This time of year kills me every year. Seriously, I am an emotional wreck. All over Facebook mom's are shouting out exclamations of excitement that their kids are returning to school, and although I can see the reasoning behind their excitement--sometimes I need a break too--my sorry over my kids returning to school far outweighs any desires I have for a break. 

A new school year marks another year gone, and new year beginning. Time passes so slowly, yet so quickly. In the day to day moments, time can seem as if we aren't accomplishing anything; however, when a new school year begins, my eyes are opened to just how much time truly has passed, and I feel my children's childhoods slipping through my fingers. I bemoan the first day of school that happens at a college or a University, and as each year passes, time slowly pulls me to that inevitable solution. Of course, I want my kids to progress. Of course, I want them to go to college. Of course, I want them to make a mark on society, and become something great. However, as each year passes, I also want those pursuits to come in the far far distant future, because for now--I want them right here with me. I want one more year of laughing at home, one more year of soccer games, of gymnastic meets, of bike rides around the neighborhood, of family vacations, of memories under the umbrella of "home". As time marches on, the process of life marches forward as well. As my children grow one year older, they get one year closer to the inevitalbe day when they will leave home and become all that I have ever imagined. And although I will be so happy for them, and for all that they will surely accomplish, my mom heart will pull a bit, because I know that I will miss all of the moments I have cherished up to that point, and my heart will want to do it again. 

Thus, I do not celebrate in my own heart, the start of each new year. No--I (quietly) cry as I smile big smiles, as I hug and kiss my kids good-bye, and...as I hide my true feelings from my sweet little monkeys. And with each tear I shed, comes new resolutions to love them more and more with each passing day.

Back To School

BACK TO SCHOOL...

This is always the hardest day for me. I really love summer. Not because I love the heat (although that helps), but because I LOVE having my kids home. The first day of school is a dreaded day at our house. I try to put on a brave face for my kids, but they all know that mom is sad. In fact, I think my sadness adds to their overall self-worth. On every "first day of school", I feel my kid's eyes searching my face. It's almost as if they want to see me cry--not because they want me to be sad, but because it makes them feel special--it makes them feel loved. I do my best to show forth a brave front, and I think I do a pretty good job of it. Sometimes I even get away without a single tear. It wasn't until two years ago that I realized that my "brave front" wasn't always what my children wanted. On that particular "first day of school", I held it in all morning. I was sure I was going to make a clean getaway without a single tear; however, as I was hugging my sweet Amber good-bye, my voice cracked. To my surprise, Amber jumped up in the air while pumping both fists, exclaiming, "I knew you were going to miss me. I knew you loved me". Since that "first day of school" two years ago, I haven't tried to hide my tears as much. However, I still put on a brave face, and I smile (even with tears). I make promises of many happy memories, and I express my excitement for their new adventure.This year I was feeling okay as I sent my kid's off for another year of excitement. I shed a few tears the night previous to school when my husband gave each of us (including me) a priesthood blessing. However, I didn't cry as I kissed them good-bye. I felt reassured. I felt confident. I was still aching at their absence, but I was ready to face my reality... As soon as I got home, I received a text message from my husband. He was sweetly checking in on me. Again, I affirmed to him, and mentally to myself that all was well. He didn't quite believe me, and he convinced me to meet him for lunch (it wasn't too hard to convince me). As I was sitting across the table from my husband, eating my fries, I looked up to see two beautiful little girls playing with their mommy. My "mom heart" ached. Immediately my eyes filled with tears, and all of my sorrows of the first day of school came rushing to the surface. My husband chuckled as he wiped away my tears, and as I exclaimed sadness that our kids were indeed growing up...and, why we couldn't have more... 
Although I had a few moments this year. I also had a few "wins". This year on the way to school, we were doing our traditional "favorite scripture" routine when my sweet daughter accidentally placed my name in the scripture. We were reciting Moroni 10:32, "Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love____"--it should say God here; however, my daughter accidentally said Mom. It was so sweet. I felt reassured that she was missing me, and I was missing her back. We had a good laugh and a memory was formed.Another "win" happened when Jacob told me that he told his teacher he was missing his mom to which she explained that that was okay for a Kindergartner, but Second Graders are bigger than that. At first I was a bit sad at his teacher's explanation; however, I am now grateful for her comment. It gave me an opportunity to teach my little boy, and we made a a secret pact. We promised each other that it was okay to miss one another, but that we didn't have to tell his teacher. It could be our secret. We talked about how I'm old, and how I even still miss my mom sometimes. We talked about how it was what we did with that "missing" that counted. How it wasn't okay to mope and be sad, but if when he thought of missing me, and then did his best, (because he knew that is what I would want)--then it was a good thing.And so, another year begins... 

FIRST DAY of SCHOOL
I cried this year. I cried a lot. This year marks the year when all of my children are in school for the entire day, and when Hailey is now in Middle School (at a new school with people she doesn't know--Middle School is bad enough without those parameters). After kissing and hugging my kiddos good-bye, I finally released my grief, and I wept. I am a mom. That is my job. I love my job. What do I do now that they are all gone? Now that they are all growing up? I don't doubt that I will be plenty busy--being a mom is more than time spent in my kid's company, but more specifically what will I do with my heart?  I miss my kids. I love them home. I love being the one who teaches them, who cares for them. Sometimes I wish I felt that home school was the answer, but I don't, and so I cry.
After crying my eyelids dry, I called my dear husband for his calming reassurance. As soon as he answered, a fresh new batch of tears emerged without warning. "I wish Jacob wasn't our last," I told him. I do not doubt the inspiration received determining that he would be last. I just sometimes wish the inspiration was different.
My heart aches. I really don't like the first day of school, but I am ready to smile, because I know that this is for our good. Doctrine Covenants 90:24 states, "Search diligently, pray always, and be believing and all things shall work together for your good." I will study. I will pray. And I will believe in happy endings.