There are only two weeks left before I have a miniature crisis. The thought of sending my only child off to Kindergarten is really getting to me. He seems pretty okay with it, but I’m headed for a breakdown.
Maybe it’s about getting old, but – hell – I’ve been old for quite some time. More likely it’s about him not being my little boy any more. I never imagined myself having these feelings. But it’s not about me. He’s starting a new adventure in his life.
A great blogger over on Daddy Knows Less is celebrating this time period with a “One Last Summer as My Baby” tour. I wish I could easily adopt his glass-half-full attitude. My son and I have spent several days at the pool this summer and bonded over throwing the squishy ball and games of “What Time is it Mrs. Whale?” (No cracks about the Mrs. Whale thing … it’s not me.) We’ve also gotten to know every character on Sunday afternoon repeats of Call of the Wildman and Gator Boys. There are some very in-depth conversations about the length of snakes and Turtleman’s uncanny ability to smoke a groundhog out of a hole. He’s decided he wants Jeremy Wade’s job and his ability to catch River Monsters.
Now that I’ve admitted how my t.v. obsession is being passed down to the next generation, I must say how much I’ve loved our time together this summer. He’s a great kid, is so amazingly funny and sharp, and I’m glad we get to have our own last hoorah before school starts. Little guy and I are soon off in a plane to visit my sister in California. They talk on the phone quite a bit, but now it’s time for them to do their bonding, with me along for the ride. My little wildman gets to see a new part of the world, with its own sea creatures and curiosities. One of my hopes for him is that he’ll see many places of great wonder in his lifetime. He is so inquisitive and vibrant, he’s sure to seek out his passions everywhere!
I’m savoring every last moment of him being not quite old enough to think I’m lame and not want to talk to me around his school friends. Maybe I’ll feel better about it all when I see that he’ll be okay on the school bus. A tiny little crying baby is now the great big boy I wished he was when he was colicky.
Never wish those moments away. They’re gone before we know it and the time is still bittersweet.