What just happened?

After Jocelyn was born, Bo and I both noticed just how ‘big’ Bailey was. It’s like we noticed for the first time ever how tall, smart, and old he was. Nothing like a teeny newborn to smack you in the face with reality and show you that your ‘baby’ isn’t a baby any more. We were amazed at how big he seemed and felt when we held him, almost as if he was an entirely new person. For weeks we’d turn to each other with the same look, we’d know what was on the other’s mind and we’d both be sad and excited all at the same time. That wore off, not sure when but he stopped appearing like the Jolly Green Giant to us every time he walked into the room. But now it’s back.

Yesterday as I was desperately trying to keep my eyes open, thank you Miss Jocelyn for that, so I could play with him, I noticed he’s huge again. All of a sudden his face looks different. His body looks different. He even acts a little older. I was suddenly sad and if I had had more energy I think I would have cried. My babies are growing up, as all do, and I’m not ready for it. As if anyone is ever truly ready for this part of life.

Next year he goes to Kindergarten. Next year I lose my baby to school and I do not like it. Nope, not one little bit. I’m going to hand over the life of my precious baby to someone I don’t know, and obviously do not trust. I know I’m not the only person to do this, to ever do this, but it is so hard to comprehend this fact and feel like I could find support for it. Someone else is going to be teaching him. Someone else is going to be a part of molding him into who he’ll eventually become. Someone is going to get to spend their day with him, and it won’t be me.

Next year my baby is going to be rubbing elbows with other kids his age, I am thrilled by this as he rarely sees kids his own size, but, a huge huge BUT, they will corrupt him. Corrupt him and make him act like all the runny nose little brats of parents who can’t seem to take the effort to teach their child manners or values. All my hard work will be gone and I’ll have to start from scratch. Oh joy joy. I wonder if I could petition that all those ankle biters be marooned off on their own little brat island so my child will remain pure.

My son, who has amazing manners, is well behaved for his age, and who loves his little sister more than chocolate milk (if you knew my child you’d know the significance of that) will be going to school and return as someone else. I won’t be spending my day with him, playing with him, teaching him, loving on him every chance I get. No. Once August rolls around next year that will be a memory. A beautiful, bitter sweet memory of just me and him at home, all day, playing and having fun.

Don’t like it at all.