This week we enrolled Bub in preschool. Not just preschool, but a pre-kindergarten class. We met his classmates at the open house, ate ice cream, got our picture taken, and a few days later Bub returned to have some extra play time with the teacher before the school year started. I gave him the extra time with the teacher partly just to be sure he was ready, to give me peace of mind, but also I wanted to give him an out. I wanted to give him a chance cry, to cling to my strong mama hips, to tremble and look up at me with his quivering uncertainty and say "no, mommy, don't leave me."
But he didn't. He dropped my hand like a brick and sprawled all over the classroom with his contagious Bubby excitement. And if he hadn't been so adorable I might have been sad. But Bub's fervor for life is far too fascinating for me to be sad...at that moment.
I did get sad later. Later that night when Bub and I were curled up in his big boy bed singing our nightly ritual of songs. I got a little sad. A little seed of sadness creeped up in me, whispering, "how long will you have these nights, how long will he still want you here?"
Some nights I rush the same three songs that he begs for and slur the words together and say "Goodnight, Bub...Goodnight, Bub...Goodnight!" as he begs for one more minute of my attention. But then some nights, I really, really soak it in, and the night after his practice day of preschool...I soaked it in.
Some nights I can't tear myself away from his back scratching demands, or his "one more song" requests. Some nights seem like all the time in the world is ours, and even if he asks for crackers in bed it's really not that big of a deal and I slink to the pantry to get them. Some nights I cover him up, just the way he likes, for each time that he gets out of bed. Because those little slats of sinking sun are beaming through the shades like bursts of joy, and nothing else really matters.
My boys, they do amazing things every day. They are turning into pre-kindergarteners right before my eyes. And I love that. In a happy, sad way...I love that. But as much as I love seeing them do amazing things like run into a classroom without ever turning back...I think I'll always love these quiet, subtle, almost meaningless moments the most. My boys will always, for the rest of their lives, be doing amazing things, but these night time rituals will only happen now. And I adore that.
Two weeks from today Bub starts his first day of pre-kindergarten. He will probably run into the class and get lost in a sea of squeals as I slide, just a little bit sullen, down the hallway. But at the end of the day, at night-night time, for now it's still just Bubby and me.
Read more from Jessica at bubandteebs.com