In just one (very short) week, this beautiful, little boy, my first-born will start Kindergarten; and though I can honestly say that I’m over the moon excited for him, I’m also filled with so many other emotions…worry, sadness, fear (just to name a few, because trust me I could go on & on!), and I’m trying to contain all of it without projecting my craziness onto him.
But as my husband pointed out to me the other day (and to ALL of my neighbors) it’s as if I have my son “in training” for the Olympics as opposed to the first day of Kindergarten; and of all the stupid things to stress over, I’ve most worried about him eating and his damn lunch box. It’s gotten to the point that over the past few weeks I’ve had him practicing, (yes, I said practicing); making him do things like:
- open a cheese stick
- put his straw in a juice box
- unscrew/re-screw his water bottle
- lift the tab off of a yogurt drink
- open/close the container that goes inside the lunchbox
You don’t have to say it, I already know it’s crazy; but you see it’s not that I don’t doubt he can do it (or will eventually be able to do it), OR that there will be someone at school to help him, it’s just for the past 5-years, it’s been ME & only me; and knowing in the back of my head that once he mastered these things, he wouldn’t need me anymore.
Kindergarten is one of those big milestones in life; it signals a change; it’s the beginning of an end: when I have to start sharing this beautiful, little person (that I created ) with the rest of the world, and let the baby that I once knew grow up…and selfishly I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.
So for now, we’ll keep up the training for the “Lunchbox Olympics” — besides we’re knee-deep in the “juice box jungle” as I’ve intentionally purchased an assorted variety, all featuring different openings – don’t need him getting cocky just yet!