Morning Garden Walk with Cameras and Kids
It is the day before the first day of school, and we've had a summer full on sunshine, friends, light saber battles, and swimming. It also seems to be ending just in time. Earlier in the week, the boys followed me out to the garden and begged to take pictures, so I let them. The baby indiscriminately snapped shots of everything along his path. The big boy was more deliberate. They both wanted to take shots of me. I wondered if they even noticed my raggedy sweatpants, chubby belly and puffy morning eyes as I sat on the bricks and leaned my back on the place where the house foundation meets the beige siding.
I've been asked many times over how I'm handling the fact that my youngest is about to head off to kindergarten. I'm ready, and I'm not ready. I hope he's ready. The house is going to be very quiet and maybe a little cleaner. I'm full of good intentions. I'm wondering what little bits of me we hop out the car on his first day and what little bits will remain. I've thought of making another baby to delay this for another five years. I've awaited this time for nearly five years, not always with dread. I cleaned the downstairs toilet five times this weekend and polished the linoleum kitchen floor so slick that Joe busted and pulled his back. I donated a few bags of clothes, the humidifier, and a junky old bathroom mirror. I snapped at everyone in the house for pee on the toilet. I threw out at least five tupperware containers of pesto and moldy diced tomatoes.
That baby boy is five and going places. Five days a week. Five minutes from home.
He's going to be awesome at kindergarten. I know it.