**This was written a few years ago when I was certain my youngest children were starting school. We had been trying for some time to have another and I had accepted that God wanted us to be a family of 5. Owen and Evan starting school was one of the most emotional and bittersweet times in my life thus far. When I wrote this, I didn’t have a blog, so I’m sharing it now. It’s crazy to think that 3 years have already passed. Also, summer is crazy and leaves me little time to blog, so enjoy a throwback on this beautiful Thursday!
“Thoughts on my youngest children starting Kindergarten”
When I think back to the moment that I knew you TWO existed, I was overwhelmed with fear. I worried how I would ever care for two babies and still give your big brother the love and admiration he deserved. I had only a few short months to prepare my heart for my newest role. I see now and continue to see that God knew that I was capable. Not everyone is blessed with the job of being a mother, let alone being a mother of twins. I understand now that God placed a strength in me I never had to use until October of 2009. He had faith in me when I had little to none.
It’s been nearly 6 years since you two came into my life and have been an appendage since. Just shy of two, your all’s older brother took the steps you all are only a week away from taking. He climbed onto a big bus and into the world of elementary education. Throughout that year, you two helped me stand at the door and wave bye to him. As a pair you kept me busy in the hours he was gone and for that I’m grateful. I had very little time to grieve my first child being big enough to go off to school without me.
Now I’m faced with that same experience, but I’ll stand alone and wave this time. No longer are there two diaper clad, brown eyed boys at my feet. No longer will I head back inside to spend my day consumed by; matchbox cars, light saber battles, building the latest and greatest Lego creation and refereeing constant squabbling. No longer will I get to be the sole attendee to the living room concert performed with guitar hero guitars and toilet paper tube microphones. No longer will someone be asking me for a snack 45 minutes after they ate breakfast. No longer will I need to tie on the cape and then untie the cape because you want to wear a different cape or because “Han Solo doesn’t wear a cape, Mom.” No longer will you need my immediate assistance in spelling every word of the “story” you’re writing. No longer will I find a short lived quiet by turning on your all’s favorite show.
Yes, I may be being dramatic as Kindergarten will only have you all gone 4 hours a day, but what stings to the deepest part of my being is knowing this is only the beginning. I know this is just another tiny step in you two growing up. It’s not much different than when Owen held his own bottle or Evan climbed to the top of the slide without my help. I know I have prepared you both to the best of my ability. I know I’m blessed with smart, imaginative, kind, energetic, outgoing, funny-so funny, empathetic and gracious boys. I was so busy preparing you for this day, I didn’t prepare myself.
Owen you are stubborn, but because of this I know that few will be able to encourage you to do something you think is wrong. I hope you keep that inner strength for the rest of your life and know that your heart and soul can’t be touched unless you allow someone to do so.
Evan you love so deeply. You don’t want to see anyone hurt or anyone sad. You are always there to give the hug that is necessary and to be cooperative in order to avoid conflict. I hope you always find joy in all things, even the times things don’t go your way.
You two are your own individuals. I pray you know that while you have been bonding before I even knew you existed, you were two separate beings placed in my arms. Two opposite personalities who will one day need to live lives of their own and this is the first attempt. The decision I made to put you in different classes tore my heart wide open, but I don’t doubt for a second it’s the right thing to do.
You are both blessed with your own talents and abilities and unless you stand on your own I’m not sure those will ever come to the light. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings. I know you’ll miss each other. I am looking forward to that first day when you are reunited. I will love hearing you all share stories of your day. I know nothing can sever the bond you all have, especially not a few hours at school.
I’m not ready to see you two go, but I know you’re ready to go. I have to look at this moment and realize I have done it. I have made it to this day with help from your father and so many others who love you two, but this truly is an accomplishment of mine and I’m not afraid to acknowledge that. From the moment I was wheeled into the NICU holding Evan to then see Owen laying there looking just as perfect and beautiful I knew this day was coming, but ignored all the people who told me how quickly it would arrive.
The day was going to come when I would not have to be your all’s everything, but you all are still everything to me. Please know you two, along with your older brother are my biggest challenge and greatest reward.
On Wednesday, I’m going to hide my tears from you as I take pictures of you in your new clothes and wearing the backpack that is almost as big as you. I’m going to be strong like I have done so many times before. I’m going to do that for you, Owen and for you, Evan. I’m going to tell myself I’m a great Mom and because of that I have great kids who are ready for this day. After you are both safe and sound in your all’s rooms in little seats made just for you, with the smell of new crayons, the feel of excitement, the sight of a new teacher’s smile and future best friends, I’m going to leave you. I promise to smile and be courageous as I say, “Bye and I love you.”
I know you’ll be nervous, even scared, but this is the first of many challenges you have to tackle on your own, but I will be your cheerleader the whole time and my prayers are with you. Even if you all don’t know it, you are both equipped and capable, my sweet freckled faced boys!
I’m going to be your assurance because I know you’re ready, I believe in you. The same way God knew I was ready and believed in me 6 years ago.