Cold Feet

I had every intention of sending Jacob to pre-school this fall. Until I started filling out the forms for his enrollment. Then I balked. I batted an eyelash. I could not commit. I know it's a mere 12 hours a week, but I'm finding I can't be apart from my baby for that long! 

I chose to stay home and quit working because I wanted to be with my kids. And here I am trying to send him off when he is but a wee babe! Even though my boy thinks he is big enough to swim the length of a swimming pool, strong enough to work like a man, old enough to decide how many cookies are good for his little tum tum, he really is only a small child barely out of the toddler section at Osh Kosh. 

Sweet baby, how did you become a boy eager to begin school, anxious to wear a backpack, dying to go out into this big, wide world to explore and learn and grow? 

Still committed to sending him to school at the time, I asked Jacob the other day if he would miss me when he went to school. His answer, a wrinkled brow and a confused, "Why would I miss you?" He was genuinely confused. To him, taking these tiny fledgling flights from our nest aren't a bad thing, they are a wonderful adventure.

I know I can't stop life, I can't stop time, I can't keep my children babies forever. At some point, I will have to send him away, with tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart. But I don't have to yet. 

Just give me a little more time. 

Ps. I don't want to break his sweet little heart and tell him he won't be going to school, and he really could use some new playmates since our core friend group (who we miss dearly!) have been led to other parts of the country to serve the Lord, so I am going to enroll him in a Mother's Morning Out program that meets one morning a week. I know he will love it. And I know I will still cry on this, his first day of "school".