Thursday, July 26, 2012

One Week

Remember that Bare Naked Ladies song "One Week" from the late '90s?  Back in college Big Dan could sing all the words to that song.  Those were the days when we had nothing better to do than listen to a song 10,000 times and take on the challenge of memorizing it.  

This post has nothing to do with that.

In one week my oldest son will be a kindergartner.  He will go in a class and begin his journey outside our home.  To say I'm emotional about this is the world's largest understatement. 

Remember this tiny guy?

He came into the world after A LOT of persuasion.  He was perfectly content to stay right where he was, thankyouverymuch.  I get tickled thinking about it, because he is still just that way today.  Every new venture  is met with trepidation.  I have watched him grow so much.  In days past new experiences were met with, at the very least, tears and at worst a full-blown meltdown.  Now, I see him screwing up his courage and forging ahead.  I can picture, right now, the look he gets on his face when he is working to be brave.  And to know that the feeling on the inside is just the same as it has always been makes me so proud of how far we have come.  

Anyone who asks him about kindergarten can expect to be met with eyes cast down, and if he's in proximity of me, hiding.  This is his way of saying, "Would you mind changing the subject immediately?"  He is nervous.  As I was thinking about it the other day (fine-every day) I realized he has nothing to compare this experience to.  When I say it's time for kindergarten all his mind sees is a big black abyss.  Instinctively, he knows it's a big deal because everyone around him is acting like it's a big deal.  

I know that one day this step will be a blip on the radar.  And while I'm so sad I won't be with him everyday, I am also so proud of the strength and independence he's gained over the past year or so.  Life has been hard in the Hull household for the past couple of years.  But Drew has been the gold to come out of the refining fire.  He has emerged from this season a whole new little person.  I am amazed at what God has done.  And, it gives me great perspective.  I have worked hard being his mom, and while I know all of the glory goes to God, it reminds me to persevere in those hard parenting seasons.  The fruit is worth the pruning. 

And of course, I am missing my mom so much.  I remember when she was first diagnosed I kept thinking, "Oh, if she could please just make it to see the Bigs start kindergarten." Like so many days, I wish I could call her and talk all about it.  We would talk about every bit of it.  The mundane parts like glue sticks and standard attire and the heart parts of it-how the only consistent part of being a mom is the letting go.  

So. Next Wednesday between 8 and 11, if you need me, I'll be in my bed with the covers over my head.  Emily will be in charge should you need anything.  Only kidding.  I am giving myself the day to go ahead and be "that mom", though.  Our school has a "boo hoo breakfast" for moms after they drop off their kiddos.  Which, there is nothing more fun than awkward small talk on one of those milestone days.  I'm probably going to skip the breakfast, grab Emily and head straight for some ice-cream.  

And try my best not to blink for the next 12 years...

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