Now that Jack has started Kindergarten we are trying to find our new rhythm. One that can exist well with the busy weekends that go along with your daddy being a pastor. One that still allows for moments like these...
Granted, work-weekends are all this kiddo has ever known. And until this month we have enjoyed his Friday day off as our family day and tried to do something fun. Or run errands. Or stay in our jammies until 2pm, take your pick.
But now that our pace is quickening and our schedules are filling (and will be for the rest of his time in our home) I find myself mourning the loss of carefree Fridays where there wasn't a places to be. But it's inevitable, that pace of life. And our boy has always thrived in a fast pace (he inherited that gift.) and this week has loved every school and all that it includes.
He has loved play time, recess time and snack time. He loves learning, meeting the other kiddos and making friends. I love watching him grow.
He did get his first bee sting yesterday. The First Bee Sting is a monumental moment for me. It's a big deal. And somehow in 5 years of life he has not once gotten stung, but he did yesterday. In effort to fight off the bee, he said. He was on the monkey bars and swung his legs in effort to hit it and, well, you can imagine what happened next.
When I heard that story I had such an array of feelings. I felt proud of him for handling his first war wound solo (he did tell me he cried. He doesn't cry a ton when he gets hurt, so it must have hurt badly.) and no one was there to help him so he had to go and find someone. I felt my stomach drop as I wished I had been there to see and comfort him while we put a bandaid on it. It was my first Mom Moment of the school year (probably not the last) being apart from my brave boy. I blubbered to John about it last night, thinking about him all alone on the playground, most likely in a pool of shameless cries as he has always been more afraid of getting a bee sting than the actual sting. But more than that, I felt myself entering into this new season of life with my boy where he experiences so many, many things apart from me and that is how it's meant to be. He wasn't meant to be within eyeshot, earshot, (yell shot. just being honest.) forever. He's meant to cross those monkey bars, get a bee sting and cry and feel better on his own. He's ready. So begins the journey of him needing me less and less and as bittersweet as that is, it's time. It's meant to happen.
It may just take me a few weeks (maybe years) to get used to, okay?
And for the most part, Zoey enjoys being home. She misses her pal and playmate, but has loved starting to do little school things and has returned to her afternoon nap (thank You Lord!)
So we're finding it. Our groove, our rhythm, our ever-changing pace in life. This old mama has a harder time adjusting to the change, but I'm trying to embrace it.