In some ways, I can’t help but feel our summer was stolen. It was just starting to get magical with the birth of Sibby, N started summer break very shortly after she was born; he wrapped up his doctoral work for the summer, and then…
she became gravely ill. (and mercifully made a full recovery after a week-long hospital stay…story to come)
we went on vacation. (which was wonderful, we just started to realize while we were there it was the last time our family would all be together for a while, and that made it hard to fully relax and enjoy our remaining days)
N accepted a (very exciting) job in a new city and things got crazy really fast (more to the story to come as well)
This was the summer MG was supposed to learn how to swim without floaties, learn how to ride a bike with no training wheels, and firm up her letter writing for kindergarten. Bea was supposed to take her first swim lessons, go to the zoo, and she’d been begging to ride ponies again. To ourselves, we’d promised a drive-in movie, camping out, the summer reading program, a bountiful garden, VBS, and a trip to the Michigan beaches.
Instead, it was cut short and all family fun was regulated to the weekends. It was condensed and concentrated all at the same time. Although I am very grateful for the new opportunities and excited about our future, the immediate part of me, the one who has to deal with the problems of today says, It’s not fair.
The thought of kindergarten is emotionally draining me. Having Sib around is especially poignant. MG was her size just yesterday. This week, I will release her to the state for the majority of her days. I will come in second to her teacher as the person she spends the most time with during the day, and the rest of her years at home will be dictated by the school calendar. It’s a pill I knew was coming, but still difficult to swallow. Just as I lamented here, I still wish I could pilgrimage back to her nursery on the first day of school. I would sit in the green rocker, smelling the clean smells of that house, and remembering the best moments we’ve had together the past 5.5 years. But that nursery was three babies ago, and that house 4 moves ago. So instead, I am immersing myself in shopping for school supplies and uniforms, educating myself on Angel and Skyward, praying over her teacher and classmates, and feeling intimidated over the car pickup line and setting an early alarm every single morning.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast. They told me it would be quick but they didn’t adequately prepare me. She went from gummy babe to knee socks and braids and loose teeth in 5 years that felt like 5 days. It’s not fair.
We are anticipating a move in our near future. We’d just started to feel settled in our new place and we were just getting the schoolhouse to where we loved it. They warned me it would take about three years in this small town to begin to feel like you belong. They were right. We are on the cusp of three and the girls are just starting to dig into real friendships, myself as well. We had put so much work in here and it’s getting painful to start the baby steps of walking away. It’s not fair.
I wish I had more time with Sibby. I wish she would let me rock her for hours and I had the time to do it without interruption. I wish I didn’t have to feed her in between errands and rushed mornings and juggling the needs of two others at the same time. I don’t think she’s getting shortchanged at all, but I think I am. It’s not fair.
No pain, no gain. That’s where I am currently.