The first day of preschool for the princess happens abruptly, much like her birth, when she is pulled off a waiting list. I watch her squeeze into the line of children between two boys, a placement that mirrors her position in our family. She glances over at me, with a smile that seems to convey, I've got it now Mom, it's alright for you to go.
Meanwhile, the teacher is briefing me on classroom procedures as I struggle to hold back the water pooling inside my eyelids. I hope she doesn't notice how silly I am. I'm secretly mourning the loss of my princess' babyhood. It disappeared this morning while I was combing her hair. I try to recall her first steps, or some other previous milestone, and my mind goes blank. All I can think of is her quiet, steady presence amid the chaos of boys.
A few months ago I made an observation at my parents' house that made me smile. I thought it was very sweet to see a picture of me at three years old propped up on my dad's dresser. In the image I am small and delicate, dressed in corduroy Bell Bottoms. With motherhood comes a sudden understanding of how parents never stop mourning the past phases of their children's lives.
The above picture is me at about three years old.
3 comments:
i feel like i'm in mourning right now - 12 will do it to you. my firstborn growing into a woman. *tears*
loren - you're rockin' in the corduroy bell bottoms. just adorable. rust was a hot color.
I can imagine how you feel with your oldest, Jen. Don't laugh but I'm drawn to that color now probably because of those pants.
A mother's heart is like a treasure chest; with each passing year it fills with the precious memories of each phase of her childrens lives. Cherish the laughter and the tears, they are all blessings.
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