The time has come

The time has come for me to cry like a baby and feel like part of my life is over. I got something in the mail today that rocked my world. My daughter B was accepted to preschool starting in August. I am yo-yoing between elated and heavyhearted.

I am elated for a multitude of reasons. B has never really been able to socialize with children that weren’t her siblings or her cousins. She was in a small home-based daycare from 8 months old to age 2 and let me tell you, she did not like it one bit. We used the same sitter that was used for P (my oldest) and he absolutely adored her and she most definitely went above and beyond what we paid her for. B, however, was not a fan. As a matter of fact, the sitter had no clue that B could even speak until my mother in law picked her up one day, and was talking up a storm to my mother in law only. So, when mother in law decided to quit working and offered to start watching B and J(the baby), I was happy to let her. I saved money and felt that B was more comfortable in her environment.

Because of this, I KNOW she needs the socialization. In her world, she is the queen of everything. A little diva. I am actually a bit worried about her poor teacher since she HAS to be the boss. I know she needs to get out of that before kindergarten, which is the only reason I enrolled her.

I also feel that she is behind where she needs to be in regards to her colors, shapes, numbers, etc . That is mainly because she doesn’t want to do it. So she doesn’t. That is a habit that is going to be difficult to break, but we’ll make it.

As much as I love my children, it is also nice to get a break from said children. When B starts school next year, I will only have one child not yet in school. To most people, that doesn’t sound like a break, but when you are used to having three children yelling, arguing, laughing, and running around, one is like child’s play.

I honestly thought that once I got my first child in school, it would be easy to send the rest of them. The whole been there, done that feel. I WAS WRONG. Just filling out the application sent me into fits of anxiety and tears. Getting the acceptance letter created much of the same, only worse. I can only imagine the shape I’m going to be in on her first day of school. I still bawl like a baby when P goes back to school every year, and he’s about to be in 4th grade. Add to her starting school P starting the next school makes me upset too. These kids are making me a mess.

Child rearing is a messy business. Messy and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.