Soon, I will have peace and quiet reign for my mornings and afternoons.
Soon, I will not get interrupted mid thought stream for hours on end.
Soon, I will have my days be all mine to get my work done or run errands solo.
Soon, I will have my work hours be as close to office hours as they ever have been.
Soon, I will not have a mid day lunch date break with a little person.
Soon, I will not be a school chauffeur, as bus rides will be the norm for both my kids.
Soon, I will have two kids in school full time for 6 hours daily with one in kindergarten and the other in First Grade.
See, this week marks the end of an era for me with kindergarten orientation for my youngest on our agenda.
Once a upon a time ago, I was a middle teacher before becoming the mom I am now, who made the hard, but right decision to stay home with her babies, because it was what made sense for her family.
So now, I have been home now for almost 5 years, where I have found purpose in my writing and designing, where someone has always kept me company for at the very least some part of the day.
I don’t truly recall what more than an hour or so of alone time even looks like. I have become accustomed to working around one or both of my kids home for some portion of my work day.
Yet, with my youngest indeed entering kindergarten in the fall, I am going to find out for better or worse what prolonged alone time looks like.
Don’t get me wrong, I am excited for this new chapter for both of us.
Because on one hand, my girl can’t wait to go and when she received the orientation letter excitedly told her big sister, “Look what I got! Your principal sent it to me and now I am allowed to go to your school.”
On the other, I am also elated to be able to get to write and design websites finally full-time for at least 6 hours with little or no interruption to further build my budding career that I have had to put on hold for the last few years off and on daily to be a mom to whoever was home with me for the moment.
And yet, a part of me is definitely mourning and grieving for the end of the baby, toddler and even pre-school years for my girls.
See my once babies are definitely no longer babies with kindergarten commencing this fall for my youngest.
How can this be?
I blink to close my eyes tightly and I feel like it was just yesterday that I was so very pregnant with my oldest, while anxiously and suspenseful awaiting her birth.
And now I blink again to have it be almost 6 years later, when we will be celebrating her 6th birthday any day.
I blink once again only to picture myself hugely pregnant for the second and last time alongside my 16 month old baby, who is arching and propping her little hands on her back to mimic my pregnant, waddling walk, only to stop to kiss my big belly, while telling her almost ready to be born baby sister that she couldn’t wait for her arrival.
And yet blinking once more to have that not, quite, born baby be 5 in November and will climb the large, yellow bus steps with an even larger than life backpack with her big sister to head off to school from 9 to 3 daily, which is the longest amount of time we have ever been apart.
Again, how can this be?
When my oldest started kindergarten this past fall, a part of me most definitely grieved her physically being gone for hours on end daily.
Now my heart is pained to loss her counterpart each day for a similar amount of time.
And yet, soon this will be the reality and not just a far off future plan.
I know I should be elated to get back my days and move forward with my career, but honestly admitting that I am not sure I am ready for it.
But like it or not, soon I will not be the mom to anymore babies, but school-aged kids, because life moves fast and when you do blink, here we are.
*A version of this article appeared on The Huffington Post Parents with permission.