Sometime over this year, my little boy became a big boy, and my nieces (my girls) became little ladies (or little snots, depending on the moment).
When school started, I mourned the passing of a big chapter in my life, one I knew to be my all time favorite that will never be repeated - a babbling baby in his car seat being lugged to and from school to pick up 2 toothless girls in pigtails and dresses, making cookies after school, Barbie doll clothes strewn from the bedrooms to the stairs, Barney on the tv, never having even a minute during the day to use the bathroom in peace...
5 years of constant self neglect and immersing energy in to the lives of little ones may not seem long, but the silent house those first September days almost drove me crazy with the shock of free hands and eyes. I've been a large white woman in a land of small tanned people - and that doesn't compare to the culture shock I've experience over the past 3 months.
At first I sat on the couch, wondering if I even had a favorite show beside Jake and the Neverland Pirates to tune into - after all, I deserved this rare occasion to watch anything rated PG13 before 8pm. I had to actually look up my channel guide to find out what else I had besides the Hub and Disney Jr. Turns out not much is on at 10am besides gag-me coffee talk shows and brides with David Tutera.
I turned the tv off because I started to see ghosts in my head. I glanced at the coffee table and saw a floppy pirate sword laying next to a few Thomas trains and dog figurines. The bay window next to me was covered in goldfish crumbs, and the love seat by the piano had the girls' hair accessory box contents tipped over onto a cushion from a mad morning rush.
They should be right here, I thought - arguing and whining over girly nonsense, the theme song to the Octonauts, the amazingly accurate imitation of train sounds impersonated by a little boy, an open bowl of goldfish that isn't supposed to be in the living room - but there was only silence (and a water filter on the fish tank I had never realized was so noisy).
And then I realized, I had NO FLIPPING IDEA what my little boy was doing at that very moment for the first time in his entire life!! And, the last time I saw him, he was sobbing and screaming from his Kindergarten classroom to the main entrance while Wade and I held each other up and staggered down the long hall, listening to him yell "MOOMMY! DAADDY!"...
At first I did what any near-insane mom does and I stalked the school. I drove around the block of Herman ave several times, peering into windows, combing the lawns to make sure Sam wasn't running in them away from his teacher -
and because I didn't want to be one of those nutty moms who always calls the teacher and interrupts her to ask how her child is doing on the first day - I called the school psychologist instead and had her go down and check and then call me back. Twice.
I sat in the parking lot about an hour and a half before dismissal - I was glad I did because it gave me a chance to watch Taylor play on the playground with her class, and download a binocular-vision app for my phone while I waited. Not a great app, by the way. Too blurry to take stalker mom photos from a distance.
Those first few weeks were a little rough. I maybe almost came unhinged a few times, and debated pulling 1 or all 3 kids out of school for random reasons, varying from "I just miss you" to "maybe a meteorite will fall from the sky and I won't be there to protect you"...
And then the day came, when my car was in the shop, and I had to resort to putting the kids on the (gasp) bus - and after waiting at my corner for about a half hour, scoping the streets for signs of yellow - the bus finally pulled up and I beamed as I watched the 6th grader - who I had helped teach how to read with her toothless smile what seemed like yesterday and lifetime ago all at once - escort the now kindergartener of a colicky 5 pound baby I had down the steps...
And they all but passed me by with brief hugs and walked like cool joes to the house with a short "hi mom" wave. I followed them, disbelieving, half hurt and half amused, and then watched them walk together.
That's when my nervous ninny insides started to turn into proud mama.
Here the girls were, independently doing homework (except for math) and discussing the this and that's of school like its old news.
And I read Sam's notes home that said things like "had a rough start, but finished great! Gave his friends hugs before leaving". They're resilient and adjusted and happy!
Epiphany:
Maybe they'll actually be okay without me for 6 1/2 hours a day, maybe it's ME!
I stopped circling the school in my car. I found a favorite show I can watch while deep cleaning the house and jamming out to a long list of Pandora channels that are mine and mine alone with no Laurie Berkner or Selena Gomez. I started walking the dogs and paying attention to them. (I didn't realize how super smart my loud obnoxious rat dog, Lucy, is!) Called my long lost BFF who I haven't seen sans children in years and we talked without any interruptions. I don't watch soaps and eat Bon bons, but Ice cream for lunch sometimes happens. I dug through my closet and found: jeans!! Started wearing make-up again! Began pursuing what I can do, myself, for a living.
I loved my career before Sam was born - should I go back? or start a rock band? While I finally come to terms with what can do when I grow up, I'm blessed to have a very supportive husband who does support me - free time goes fast but it's nice to finally haul closets and work as a volunteer in the schools regularly.
This new chapter of life is super busy - school, swim lessons, gymnastics, Odyssey team, doctor appointments, meetings, class parties, and visits with family and friends.
Life is busy, but fufilling. And the greatest benefits are not just me discovering myself again during school hours - but seeing the massive development the kids are making.
Last year we debated taking Sam out of preschool and stressed constantly. This year, Sam sticks his face in mine each morning and says "can we go to kindergarten, Mommy?"
Success.
To everything a season, and while this year has been one of much change and development for us, each season does bring us much joy with the challenges. We feel very, very blessed for all that we have been given - and has been given to me most of all.
We wish you a Merry Christmas! 
