(Holding his Kindergarten packet after registration outside of his elementary school)
Several weeks ago I registered Nolan for Kindergarten. Kindergarten. I cannot shake it. I do not want him to go. I can barely count the number of months (which is 3 and a half by the way) without getting a lump in my throat. I just cannot believe it. I wish I was in denial. That would be easier wouldn’t it? Instead I think about it all. the. time. Nolan is more than ready to go. It is me that wishes I could refuse to let go.
I do not think when a new parent is told to cherish the time, that it will go quickly, that your child will be grown before you know it, that they believe that actually is the case. It is so TRUE! I can assure you it feels like yesterday that Nolan was born, that he started to crawl, said momma for the first time, started preschool, and so on. As I prepare myself for this transition, I worry and fear I did not relish in the time we had together enough. I reminisce and wonder if I spent enough time with him. Did I put off the laundry and paying bills and cleaning the house like I should have? Did I remember to really enjoy these first five years of life? I don’t know. I feel like I have, but then I feel like I could have done better. I think my doubts are normal and to expected for many mothers who face sending a child to Kindergarten. I know this, but can’t stop myself! I just want more of “this” time.
I know he is just five and we have so many wonderful experiences and memories ahead of us, but what I cannot get past, is that it will never be like this again. It just won’t. From here on out I only have my precious boy on nights and weekends for nine to ten months of the year. This is not OK! 
Yesterday I had a parent/teacher conference with Nolan’s teacher. She said with the utmost certainty, “Nolan is more than ready for Kindergarten. He could start tomorrow and will do well.” This is of course is what every parent wants to hear. And the truth is, Nolan is ready. I know it. James knows it. His teachers know it. Nolan knows it. He is very excited and very much looking forward to the new school year. (Of course I joke to myself that in many ways Nolan is naïve. Starting Kindergarten is just the beginning of years of homework, studying, tests, and so on. I will let the innocence live on a while longer. Soon enough he will discover that on his own).
Nolan has always had a positive experience in school. He loves to learn. He loves to be social (this definitely could be a negative according to his teacher yesterday too). He loves new experiences. He is ready. I cognitively know this. My heart just completely disagrees.
My neighbor friends in Bunko promise me that we will love his elementary school. They sing the praises of this school and the teachers. Every single neighbor I talk to goes on and one with great enthusiasm about what a great school Nolan will be attending. They assure me all of my anxiety and sadness about this transition will subside when they see how much Nolan enjoys school. Of course this brings me great comfort, but still. Still, I am not ready.
But I have no choice. I will suck it up and join Nolan in being excited about starting Kindergarten in three and a half months. <Gulp> We will have a great summer. I will cherish these months like I never have before. We will make the most of this special time, because in my mind it will forever be different after this summer.
I will walk Nolan proudly and confidently into school on the first day of school. I will, without a doubt, show him how excited I am for him. I will smile as I help get him settled. I will give him a great big hug and tell him to have a great day. I will smile all the way out of the building. And then I will cry.
