Today I drove the 1.7 miles to the same church that has served as our Preschool and Mom’s Day Out for the last eight years. I did it with music and the usual chatting with the passenger…the one who will no longer be a preschooler as of 1:15 today. She is ripping my heart out and she couldn’t stop it if she tried.
She has been referring to herself as The Graduator all week and I have asked to hear the graduation poem where she wrongly calls herself a graduate (grad-u-eight instead of a grad-u-ettte) three times and I don’t correct her—I just smile. She has grown more in the last two months than she has the last 10. I am so proud of her and yet I want to ball up and cry that these little years are over…
I was talking about it (for the billionth time) this morning and my nine year old got all kinds of put off. He says, “mom, we all did this preschool graduation thing, who cares?” I tried to explain it, but it was futile…even for me. It doesn’t make sense. Why does the last slap your heart like this? I think maybe because you know what happens next. I feel like the end of preschool is the top of the roller coaster. You know it click, click, clicks to the top. It is slow and full of anticipation. The next part is why we got on the ride in the first place, but it is going to go so fast! It is the longer part of the track, but it flies by in comparison to the click, click, click journey to the top of that hill. Then WHOOSH! I have friends with their oldest kid graduating high school this week (which is the big leagues and I will not touch that feeling with a ten-foot pole). I have seen from a secondary place how fast that day arrives. If motherhood has taught me anything it is that it is IMPOSSIBLE to capture all the moments and absorb 100% of the experience. It is as if somebody handed you a lump of sand and asked you to carry it 10 feet without dropping any grains. Not gonna happen. However, we do our best. We savor when we can and we mother on when we can’t.
These years. They are hard and beautiful years. Our best and their beginning—what a combination! I pray that if you are closing the books on any particular chapter in your parenting this May that you spend some time thanking God for the blessing of parenting. Ask him to redeem the ugly, and solidify the best in your heart. He is good at that. Parenting is one of His favorite tools in our holiness adventure. Perfection is not only impossible, but it has never been and will never be a requirement. Be blessed to know He knew exactly what He was doing when He called you to parent your kids.