I can’t believe your time as a preschooler has come to pass. Everyone told me it would go quickly, and of course they were right. I didn’t want to believe them. I mean, three years is a long time, or so I thought. But time is a clever thing, isn’t it? Always propelling us forward whether we’re ready or not. (And in this case, not.)
As I drove you to preschool for the last time, all I wanted to do was to savor every minute.
Even though we arrived early, drop off was over in a blink. Then I blinked again and a few short hours later we were filing in to watch your preschool graduation ceremony. I was in complete disbelief. Where did those three years go? All the pick ups and drop offs, field trips, and cuddle mornings–just done.
I am going to miss those cuddle mornings, otherwise known as the few lazy mornings we had in between preschool days. Spending those days in our pajamas–playing superheroes, baking, and building tall towers, just to knock them down–those were some of the best days!
Then it happened. You walked in, graduation cap placed precisely on your head. My thoughts of time vanished as I saw you beaming from ear to ear. Your big blue eyes and vigorous wave could not be missed! The lights dimmed and the slideshow began. (Cue the tears.) It was as if a switch had been flipped, and I began replaying every memory in my head.
I remember walking you in on that very first day.
You were surefooted from the start. Selfishly, I wanted you to hold on just a moment longer, but you were ready. I could hear your little three-year-old voice as we were heading to your second week of preschool. “Mommy, I know the sound for the letter A.” “Mommy we learned about ______ composer in music class.” “Mommy look at my art project, it’s very sparkly.” “I got to ride on a SCHOOL BUS!” “Did you know a caterpillar makes a chrysalis?” Somewhere along the way you went from a tiny three-year-old to a bold six-year-old, who starts most sentences with the word, “actually.”
I can’t begin to thank your teachers enough for the role they played in your growth and development. It was evident every day I picked you up. Those ladies were a permanent topic of conversation in our home, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. There are no words to express my gratitude for the love and kindness they filled their classroom with each day.
Darling girl, I am so proud of you!
So, please bear with me, as I shed some tears with each new milestone you reach. It isn’t that I don’t want you to grow and succeed. I do. I want so much for you. But I also know that with each milestone, you will need me just a little bit less. It’s the natural order of things, I know. But today, just let me hold you a little longer.