We never thought we’d get here but here we are. The summer has been long and hot. You have excitedly counted the days down, your patience wearing thin. For weeks I wished it to arrive, as I struggled to balance the needs of all 3 of you, without the routines of pre-school, friends and activities. But now I wish I could stop time. To keep you here with me. Safe and sound. How can I possibly let my heart walk around on the outside?
Tomorrow I will hand you over to the world. I know you’re ready to go, more than ready. You have come into your own these last 6 months and you are so full of life; full to the brim, your enthusiasm boils over, searing the hearts of those around you. Your love for life, I hope it remains untouched. I hope it only grows and I wish you a village around you who not only embraces you but shares your warmth, kindness and ability to see the silly in everything.
Your uniforms are labelled, your lunchbox and bag is ready. We’ve gone through it all and you grin at me, indulging me in my spiel, nodding and telling me that you know. You can do it all by yourself and can I just drop you off at the gate please? I cram my sadness back down, reminding you that the boys want to see your classroom and so can we please come in too? How odd it is to be on this side. To not be the teacher awaiting the students. To be gently ushering the parents out the door as they watch their kids enter my world. I know what to expect from that aspect. I’m not concerned about what you need or what you’ll learn; I know all that. But this emotion, this raw ache when I think of you out there, dipping your toe into the ocean of life; it is new and it hurts. Like a wave, it rushed in and knocked me off my feet. I have spent this week struggling to break the surface; sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe and I realise I’m holding my breath.
It was just yesterday you were born, and I stumbled into motherhood; fumbling my way through the days. And my god, it went so quickly, so quickly.They tell you, the oldies in the supermarket and the midwives in the hospital; The days are long, but the years are short. I rolled my eyes at the time, but I wish I had listened. It flew by and what I would do for one of those days back. Just one. To hold you in my arms, a little pink bundle of love; when everything you needed, I provided. I know you need more now. More than I can give you. You need to move on to the next stage; you need to move away from me, from us. Your circle, your mind, your soul needs to expand, to experience. And it hurts to admit that; but a child needs a village. Just don’t go too far, OK? Come back to me often. I’ll wait for you everyday and will try to not miss a thing. For even though I know you must go, you’re not really gone and I will always be here for you.
Tomorrow I gift you the world Addison. It’s big and wild and often wonderful. It is sometimes horrible but always hopeful. It is full of inspiration and love, just like you.
Don’t let it change you, my girl. You change it.
You change it.