Be

For eight years I was a full time mom at home with my children.  Twenty-four hours a day seven days a week without fail or much help.  My husband and I agreed that it was important for us to raise our children this way, and we were fortunate to be in a position where it was possible.  Although I was dedicated to the task and considered it a privilege to be able to stay at home with my girls, I often felt as though I was doing a job any monkey could do.  I had degrees and years of work experience that were not being utilized and I craved adult conversations.  I missed the mental and intellectual stimulation that quite frankly Dora just can't provide. 

Confession:  I hate Swiper, back packs, and maps.  Still.

It was the first day of school for my youngest daughter. That day would be the first day that both kids were in school and I would be alone.  Alone.  I couldn't wait to rush home and pee all by myself without anybody standing there asking questions.  No fingers wiggling under the space of the locked door pleading for something.  It was going to be my time to figure out who I am again too.  No longer just the maker of peanut butter sandwiches, doer of laundry removing mysterious stains, and finder of all things lost.

In the hallways of the school there were tearful mothers who now felt incomplete when parting with their child, like half of them literally had been removed and they were forced to leave without it.  Muttering how sad they were and they couldn't believe this time was here so soon.  Then there were the children who clung to their mothers with what can only be described as a death grip.  Wrapped firmly around the mother's leg and she struggled with trying to walk with the dead weight.  The children pleading for their mothers not to leave them there like school was a war crimes camp from which no one ever returned. 

There I was doing a touch down dance end zone style outside the school.  A victory celebration of spiking an imaginary football that signified that I had been there 24/7, had willingly sacrificed it all and left nothing on the field...exhausted and triumphant...and still managed to have some of my mind left!  Can I get an amen?!!

It's true...I was not like the other mothers that day.  I was not crying or reluctant to let go.  Neither was Sophie.  Self confident, happy, and ready to face whatever might be.  She did not look back or even give it a second thought.  I was proud.  My girls were what they were supposed to be.  What I had helped make them be.  I know they will both be fine no matter what comes their way and face the world passionately, finding their rightful place in it no doubt. 

Message to my children:  I have been there this whole time holding your hand.  I am still there.  I will always be there.