I am having the most sentimental Mommy-thoughts recently. It's because it's almost May. What does that have to do with anything, you ask? Well, duh, the month of May is not about springtime. It's about the end of school. Graduation. Moving to the next grade or stage of life. I always am a little melancholy when May approaches.
Now, let me set the record straight. I love love LOVE me some summertime! I count the days from Labor Day to the date Shamrock Pool reopens in May. And I am always ready to be done with school for a bit. (No comments from my students, please. I am certain they feel the same!) But underneath that glee for summer lurks the truth of what May is about. And I have to acknowledge that I am closer and closer to working myself out of a job. Each May, my kids need me less and less. That's the way it should be. I know.
In May, my oldest will walk across a stage so that some professor can hang a doctorate hood over her shoulders. Frankly, I think they should let me do it. That prof didn't birth her, teach her to read, inhale to the point of hyperventilation when PCAT scores came in the mail, nor pray through exams with her. Their loss. My investment. Her work and well-deserved reward. For a whole bunch of years, she has been a student. Come May - no more. She's delighted. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
In May, my next-born will drive herself halfway across the country for an internship. Colorado is a million miles away, I think. And although she'll come back for one more year of college, she has pointed out to me that a bazillion people move to CO to work for the summer...and stay. Come the next May, who knows. She'll then walk across a stage and get a piece of sheepskin that represents 4 years of great work, impressive accomplishments, and a whole lot of fun. Even if she returns to her GA roots, I know that, even now, the only way I will see her anymore is with a suitcase in her hand. (Or, in her case, several suitcases!) She has flown from my nest - and in glorious flight. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
In May, my now-sophomore-son will become a Junior. With only a couple of credits left to complete high school graduation requirements. Come next May, he could choose to be done and move to the next level of higher education. (What was I thinking to let him proceed at this pace!!!!!) Even though he still gets his mail at this address, he's occupied at other places most of the time. May means more time at work and fun...and away from home. He's excited. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
In May, even the baby moves to a new level. She will complete elementary school and be an official middle-schooler. Who made 6th grade part of middle school anyway??!! While they were at it, I wish someone had insisted on adding 13th grade. Maybe it could still happen. She would probably skip it, if they did. She is thrilled about middle school. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
May. A lovely time of year for sure. The doorway to my beloved summer. A time for celebration and commemoration. But I'm still a little bit sad. I wish my job didn't have to change.
Now, let me set the record straight. I love love LOVE me some summertime! I count the days from Labor Day to the date Shamrock Pool reopens in May. And I am always ready to be done with school for a bit. (No comments from my students, please. I am certain they feel the same!) But underneath that glee for summer lurks the truth of what May is about. And I have to acknowledge that I am closer and closer to working myself out of a job. Each May, my kids need me less and less. That's the way it should be. I know.
In May, my oldest will walk across a stage so that some professor can hang a doctorate hood over her shoulders. Frankly, I think they should let me do it. That prof didn't birth her, teach her to read, inhale to the point of hyperventilation when PCAT scores came in the mail, nor pray through exams with her. Their loss. My investment. Her work and well-deserved reward. For a whole bunch of years, she has been a student. Come May - no more. She's delighted. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
In May, my next-born will drive herself halfway across the country for an internship. Colorado is a million miles away, I think. And although she'll come back for one more year of college, she has pointed out to me that a bazillion people move to CO to work for the summer...and stay. Come the next May, who knows. She'll then walk across a stage and get a piece of sheepskin that represents 4 years of great work, impressive accomplishments, and a whole lot of fun. Even if she returns to her GA roots, I know that, even now, the only way I will see her anymore is with a suitcase in her hand. (Or, in her case, several suitcases!) She has flown from my nest - and in glorious flight. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
In May, my now-sophomore-son will become a Junior. With only a couple of credits left to complete high school graduation requirements. Come next May, he could choose to be done and move to the next level of higher education. (What was I thinking to let him proceed at this pace!!!!!) Even though he still gets his mail at this address, he's occupied at other places most of the time. May means more time at work and fun...and away from home. He's excited. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
In May, even the baby moves to a new level. She will complete elementary school and be an official middle-schooler. Who made 6th grade part of middle school anyway??!! While they were at it, I wish someone had insisted on adding 13th grade. Maybe it could still happen. She would probably skip it, if they did. She is thrilled about middle school. I am proud...and a little bit sad.
May. A lovely time of year for sure. The doorway to my beloved summer. A time for celebration and commemoration. But I'm still a little bit sad. I wish my job didn't have to change.