Thursday, November 3, 2011

Be my, be my baby

I have some fun Halloween pictures to share with you all, but they'll have to wait because I'm going through some pain right now.
It's called my baby is going into Kindergarten, you all.

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Seriously.  I know, I know, all mama's go through it.  And I KNOW you all are tired of hearing me whine and complain and moan and groan over the fact that my baby is going into Kindergarten.

But he is.  And, it's a way's away still, but, well, still.

My pain has been brought to the foremost of mind lately, specifically the past week.  When I had to make arrangements for a babysitter to come here.  For tonight, my friends, is the night of prospective Kindergarten parents night at our school.

Eee gads.

This is the beginning of the end.

And on a rather strange side note, I'm not really sure what I'm to wear to this little shin-dig, or if it even is a shin-dig, or if it is rather more of a slightly formal meeting to make mamas like me weep in desperation of their fleeing youth.

Also a side note:  My birthday is on Saturday.  Hence, the youth-fleeing.


Yesterday, I taped my baby reading.  Reading, you all.  He's not supposed to be reading yet, not at pre-Kindergarten age, not when he's still supposed to be my baby.  But, alas, he is.  And I have helped him along in this venture called Growing Up, so I suppose I should be angry and exasperated at no one but myself.

When I uploaded this particular video to photobucket, lo and behold there were a bunch of other videos from our past.  It was weird.  Because I had forgotten I had an account and that these videos were there, it was made all the more surreal when I clicked on one and saw our apartment in Korea.  Or our apartment in New York (dang, that was small).  Or the Spectacular Musical Fountain Show we would go to  in the neighboring province from Seoul some nights and eat sushi while sitting on a blanket watching a show that was aptly named (it really was Spectacular).

And in our apartments were (crazy obvious, be warned) our kids.  But not as they are now.  NO!  They were little.  Again, it was surreal because it was like I had forgotten they had been babies.  And, in all honesty, Sprite and Scamp weren't babies in the videos, but they were little.  And oh, so cute.  But, Puck, he was a baby.  And I cried a little because I couldn't hold him like that again.  And then I sighed a little sigh of relief because he would never scream in some unknown agony where there was nothing I could do to help him again.

This is my pain.  I am struggling with it.  But struggling is good.  It means I'm working on it, praying about it, wrestling with this thing that, if I let it, would eat me up inside and rob us of any pleasure that could come of our kids getting bigger.  God gave them to us to raise, not to keep little.

And, really, where would the fun be in having a 5 year old permanently anyway?  My goodness, but he can be stubbornly set in his ways.  I am hoping that with time and maturity will also come wisdom and patience.  And that time, I need to be reminded, means age.

Keep me strong, Lord, keep me strong as I send my baby to Kindergarten.

There.  There has to be some growth in not putting that in italics again, right?

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