Baby Steps

***morning after note. that was painful to read. i would fail any 9th grade english class. but i'm not changing it. deal, right? Also? The tile in that bathroom? Isn't it HIDEOUS? ugh.

 
Trying something new. Or, old, really, I used to do this a lot. Posting under the influence. I'll probably spelll check because ,well, the little red dashed line shows up when something is misspelled, but you know, other than that - I'm just going to write.

My Big Kiss will be 5 in June. FIVE. That in itself blows my mind. I mean, he's such a big kid, he strips himself nekked to take a shit, but delicately hangs his lil undies on the cabinet hook whilst doing so.

Any mother's dream.  That said?

I'm sad.

He's going to kindergarten in the fall. In 6 months. Well, in 5 months and 27 days. But who's counting.  And we had orientation tonight.  Just parents. Basic info. No kids. All of us sitting in the bad fluorescent lighted gym listening to the info and asking questions.

And me?

Crying.

Fine. I was bawling


Don't judge me, assholes. I'm having a moment.

Anyway, we're sitting in this gym and mwuat mwua mwua mwuat mwuat (like the Charlie Brown teacher) information bla bla bla and then they play a slide show. Of kids smiling and playing and riding a bus and NOT WITH THEIR PARENTS!

Here's the thing. I'm not sure if I've shared this before. I never EVER thought I would be a mother. I was not one of those people who lived their life to "birth babies." I didn't ever feel like I needed a child to "complete me."

That said? Yah, I went to college, got a job, meet a man who 'worked,' got married...babies are the next logical step.

So whatever, I did the whole knocked up thing (swear to god, be thankful I didn't blog back then. you'd be subjected to many many many TMI entries and, well, ew), had my kid.

I was 31 when I had my first child. Working at a job I loved. Married to a man who loved me. And came home to a dog who sniffed my crotch every time I walked through the door. And came home to a baby. A baby. A screaming pink ball of gas.

I figured "I can do this. I'm smart. I'm capable. I can raise a human AND I make milk. What the fuck is your super power?"

Well that kid? In short order he changed my life. Any mom will tell you this. Whether they birth their baby or are unconventionally made a mom.  A kid. They love you unconditionally and without fault. A kid. Who can wrap his fat little hands around your heart and squeeze once in a while just to make sure you're paying attention. A kid. Who makes you laugh so hard you pee your pants and scream so much you think you're insane.

A kid.

A kid.

Well I now have 2 kids. And the first born is going to be in kindergarten and I will not be the person who is solely responsible for him at all times. He'll be on a bus. From kindy to daycare. At a time I'm assuming is somewhat consistent each day, but who knows? I won't be there to see him get on that bus.

He'll be making new friends. Going from a daycare of about 40 to a whole school of 180. Recess.  Lunch.  Gym.  All of this. My kid will do it. Without me.


And that, folks, is what made me cry today. I don't want to let go. That little fucker came into my world and wrapped himself so tightly around my heart and soul I can't believe I was ever EVER questioning being a mother.

AND?

It's only March. I have 5 months and 27 days to get my shit together so that I don't cry on his first day.  Just lie to me and tell me it'll be ok and my kid will be ok.

Please.