K-Day

K-Day. It's like D-Day for mothers.

I knew this day was coming. We've been to the open house. The new parent orientation. We finally went to Target and bought a million and one school supplies. We had a home visit from Jaxon's new teacher. We did his first homework assignment.

All of these things were supposed to help ease the transition for Jaxon to start Kindergarten.

But nothing prepared me for putting my little boy on that big yellow bus today.

I mean, you hear all the country singers sing about it in their sad songs, about kids growing up way too fast, and before you know it you're walking them down the aisle. And all of a sudden, before I knew it, I am in that sad country song!

What happened?

This happened.

 



My little boy grew up. Way too fast. 

 And now he rides the Bird Bus.

 And he packs his own lunch. And requests things like steak and ribs for packing in his own lunch.

And he gives me looks that say, 'Mom, I love you too, but I'm a big kid now and I have an image to uphold, so if you cry again or take one more picture, I am going to roll my eyes at you and walk away.'

And he makes his own decisions.

Like that he can walk to the bus stop all by himself (again with the 'I don't need You stuff!'). Twenty minutes before it is even supposed to be there. Which is really like thirty minutes on the first day while the bus practices his route.



And though I know we are hovering right on that edge of losing his innocence and having already lost it to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Batman (really, have you watched this show lately? I never knew there was so much romance in Batman!), I am hopeful we still have a few more good years.

Before the eye rolls turn into fights. And the walking ahead of us turns into slamming doors and running out of the house.

For now, I will answer his questions the best I can (or make up answers where required). I will play baseball after school even though I should be checking my e-mail. I will slip notes that say 'have a good day' into his lunch box, even if it means he hides it from his friends.

And I'm still going to cry at the bus stop and tell him to have a good day. How embarrassed can a five year old get, really?

And even though I might be really sad today, mourning something I can't quite explain, I am also beyond excited for him.

He's going to go off and do AMAZING things.

I mean, he had his lunch code memorized ten minutes after he got it. I can hardly remember my password to log on to Blogger.

So in my heart, I know that he is ready. And I'm getting there.

 

I might be living a sad little country song, but that Jaxon. Man he is rockin' to his own tune.