It’s almost here. The day I’ve been dreading for the past eight years is almost here. My baby is about to start kindergarten, and I’m going to be an empty nester. OK, the nest won’t be completely empty, but definitely a lot emptier than it has been for the last eight years. Gone will be the days of morning play dates, weekday trips to the empty zoo, Friday picnic lunches at the Botanical Garden, and Monday trips to H-E-B with my little helper in tow. No more morning snuggles after dropping off Big Sister at school, no more leisurely Friday mornings with nowhere to be, and no more car line chats or sing-alongs with my little buddy.
Don’t get me wrong; over the past eight years there have been many times I’ve dreamed of this day. I’ve thought about how much easier it would be to run errands by myself, how much faster I could grocery shop without a little “helper” who decides she has to go potty when we’re on the opposite side of the store from the restroom, how much I would love a moment to myself 
in the midst of diaper changes and tantrums, and how much I would enjoy eating my lunch or snack without having to share it (or without having to eat it in my pantry hiding spot). The life of a stay-at-home mom is not a walk in the park. But sometimes it is a walk in the park—literally—and that is exactly the part of this job that I have loved the most. And now those walks in the park (or zoo or grocery store or children’s museum) with my girls will be few and far between. And that’s hard for me to swallow.
Sure, I was sad when my older daughter started kindergarten. But I still had a little one at home to keep me occupied, and my days really didn’t change all that much. This time it’s very different. This time I’ll have to come home to a quiet, empty house after leaving my heart at the school.
I know my baby girl is ready for kindergarten. She’s been asking for a year now how many more days until she gets to go to school with her big sister. She’s been to the school countless times and knows many of the teachers. She walks around like she owns the place. She’s ready, and she’ll do great. It’s me who isn’t ready. For five years she’s been my sidekick and partner in adventure. We’ve done everything together. And now she’s crossing this bridge all alone, and I can’t go with her.
I pray that she will love and succeed in school. I pray that her classmates will be kind to her and that she will find loyal, true friends. I pray that her kind heart will shine through in her words and actions and that she will be a loyal, true friend to anyone who is lucky enough to call her one. I know I can’t go with her, but as she enters this new world alone, I offer her this advice:
- Listen to your teachers and help them when you can. Their job is not easy; do your best not to make it harder.
- If you know something is wrong, don’t do it just because everyone else is doing it.
- Always be kind. Be a good example to those who are unkind to you.
- It’s OK to stick up for yourself when someone treats you badly.
- Be happy for others when good things happen to them.
- Don’t compare yourself to others. God made us all special in different ways.
- We all make mistakes. The important thing is to learn from them so we don’t make them again.
- Try to do better today than you did yesterday.
- Be nice to the new kid. Ask him/her to sit with you at lunch or play with you on the playground.
- Always say “please” and “thank you.”
- Your sister said to remind you to always knock before going into the bathroom. (I think she’s speaking from experience.)
- Wash your hands often. Hand sanitizer is your friend.
- Keep your hands and hair to yourself. (Especially your hair.)
- Never, ever forget how much you are loved and how special you are.
- If this whole kindergarten thing doesn’t work out, returning to the nest is always an option. (Just kidding…sort of.)
I kno
w we’ll both survive this transition. I’ll go to H-E-B and eventually learn to walk past the lobsters (whom we’d say “hi” to on every single visit) and the H-E-Buddy prize wheel without tearing up. I’ll probably be the creepy lady who stares a little too longingly at the mom and toddler shopping sweetly together. And I’ll find ways to occupy my time that don’t involve play dates and play places. But I don’t think I’ll ever find a job I’ll love as much as I have loved taking care of my two girls these past eight years. Watching them grow into the amazing kids they are today has been the joy and privilege of my life. I took so many moments for granted, and I’ll never get those back.
So, mamas with little ones at home, heed my advice. When those babies scream and refuse to nap and have an accident in the middle of Target, take a deep breath and remember that this is short-lived. Appreciate the sweet moments and the zoo trips and the play dates because your kiddos won’t be little forever. And one day, you too, will be sitting in your nest looking around and wondering what happened to all the noise that used to drive you crazy. And I’ll bet you’d give anything to have that back just one more time.
Call me. There will be plenty of room in my nest for you.
