Posted on

preparing for the insanity…and the most amazing

I have a big week ahead of me.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have worries about surviving it. I know I’m made of tough stuff. I know that I’ll get through it ok. And I know that it’s actually going to be quite an amazing ride. But I’m trying to prepare myself for an emotionally/physically/mentally draining week. And somehow I need to convince myself that this week won’t kill me dead. I mean…it probably won’t.

I already feel like I have seven jobs right now. It’s hard enough to get the desk job done. But then this mom/wife/regular person-gig has about 648+ jobs attached to it. And then do you like living in a clean house? WHO IS GOING TO DO THAT?? Also, did I mention that I’m sharing a part of my soul to a room full of people this Sunday? (On a stage? With bright lights and stuff?) OH AND JILL YOUR FIRSTBORN CHILD IS GOING TO PROM. GO AHEAD AND KEEP WEARING THAT HEART OF YOURS ON YOUR SLEEVE.

So…yeah. I wasn’t exactly prepared for my kid to get asked to prom. Turns out no one expects the Spanish Inquisition OR your sophomore kid getting asked to Junior Prom. But I will have you know that as of yesterday, we already have a dress and shoes. In one day. And I only got emotional twice. It would’ve only been once, but when a certain fairy godmother starts arranging things and being all magical and shit, EMOTIONS HAPPEN. I couldn’t help it. But my non-shopper self survived A DAY OF SHOPPING with three teenage girls. I even found a perfect pair of shoes for myself and that thing where I’ll be on a stage with all the lights and great shoes.

And you know what else I survived yesterday? MEETING THE MR PROM DATE. Because apparently shopping for all things prom was not enough tap-dancing on my heart for one day.

We met up at an indoor softball/baseball arena. Since MR PROM DATE and my child both play ball, we felt like that would be an even playing field (pun absolutely intended) for this meet-up. When I walked in, not only did I get to meet MR PROM DATE but I was also so thrilled to meet MR PROM DATE’s parents. Who, bless them, have a teenage daughter as well and appreciated the fact that we wanted to meet their son before he was allowed to take her to prom. We even found out that we know some of the same people. Also? They were just as interested to meet my kid as we were to meet theirs. It was so great that this is important to them, too.

But even better? MR PROM DATE passed with flying colors.

He was a gentleman. Super polite. Respectful. And he was clearly a mama’s boy. Since it was family fun night at the arena, he was roped in to playing kickball with all the littles after they were done with the batting cages and MR PROM DATE remained polite and respectful and even helpful and encouraging with the littles that were there.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend that he’s perfect and never does anything wrong. He IS a teenage boy. But he’s a NICE BOY who is nice and also, respectful and nice. (He’s also a little bit adorable.) But does it make things a slight-little-bit-easier to send my kid off to prom when MR PROM DATE is a good guy? YES. YES IT DOES.

This week IS going to kick my ass. This weekend IS going to be emotional. And a lot of this emotion is wrapped up in this kid of mine that is growing up so damn fast. But I also know that all this growth and change and hard stuff is exactly what I need to be experiencing. I REALLY am going to try hard to embrace it and be proud and excited. But I know that I’m gonna get a little beat up this week. I will probably have an emotional black eye for the better part of it. But it helps to know that I’m where I’m supposed to be with the people that I’m supposed to be with.

I have great kids that are just so damn awesome.

I have a great husband who loves his family.

I have the best friends and family ON THE PLANET.

And I’m a part of this magical and amazing experience that has allowed me to grow in ways that I didn’t think possible.

It really is going to be ok. And by golly, maybe this week and this weekend have to be tough and emotional and crazy because *I’m* tough and emotional…and crazy. (WAIT,what?!)

Or maybe it’s just because I need to dig a little deeper to remind myself how far I’ve come. And that it’s okay that I still have a long way to go. This week is going to be full of hard work, prayer…and A LOT of amazing moments.

And I’m ready. For all of it.

I got this.

Posted on

at some point, I’m going to have to learn to let go

I don’t remember being tormented by my children “graduating” preschool or starting kindergarten. I remember being sad that they were nervous and scared, but I don’t remember having a “my baby’s growing up!” moment back then. Even when Beezus started middle school, I was all business. I don’t think it occurred to me to be sentimental or sad. It was just the next step! Part of life!

I’m not saying my heart was made of stone. I just think I was working so hard to just keep us all afloat and alive that recognizing milestones wasn’t something I could focus on.

Until I couldn’t focus on anything else.

The night before Beezus started high school, I realized there were a bunch of milestones sitting on my chest and weighing on my mind. They weren’t going to let me get away with ignoring them anymore. It wasn’t so much that she was starting high school-I was excited for that-but that all of a sudden I was on a deadline. Without realizing it, college became this ticking time-bomb and the countdown on the clock was staring me in the face. It was like I could actually see the glaring red numbers showing me exactly how much time had already passed. How much time I had missed when I was so busy just surviving.

Her starting high school meant I had four years left on the clock. Four years left of her being mine.

I’m not dumb. I know that she’ll always be my daughter…but it will all change when she leaves for college. I won’t be able to squeeze her any time I want. She won’t be around for me to cook her favorite meals. (Shut up, it happens sometimes.) She won’t come home to me and us and our house each night. I won’t be able to just walk into her room to see how she’s doing. She’ll be her own person. She’ll be grown.

b&me

This all hit me like a ton of bricks the night before her freshman year. It was wrecking me in ways that I had never experienced. I have no recollection of most things that night. But I remember climbing into bed. And then getting right back out and walking down the hall to her room.

I wordlessly climbed into her bed with her. She was still awake.

“Hey.” I whispered.

And then there couldn’t be any other words from me. The hot tears ran down my face and soaked her pillow as I tried to take a deep breath.

“Are you crying??” she asked. If only to give her something to say.

She knew that I was, of course. We both laughed. And then we resumed crying. Because of course I made my child cry.

When I could finally speak, I told her that I was freaking out. I told her that I was so excited for her and all things high school, but that all of a sudden, I was losing my mind over the fact that I only had four years left before she left for college. I told her that it had snuck up on me. I told her how proud I was of her…how much I loved her. And that I knew I was being a little bit ridiculous. But that I just couldn’t help myself. We laughed that I couldn’t seem to stop crying. At all.

I knew she needed to sleep. I knew that I was supposed to let her.

But I also didn’t want to leave.

mom n beezus

We grew up together, her and I. When I was a (too) young mother just struggling to just survive, she kept me sane. When my heart was broken in a million pieces, she put me back together. At times when I didn’t think I was doing anything right, she made me believe that I was. She was my bright spot when everything was dark. If you wonder why the thought of sending her off to college leaves me wrecked, this is why. She is more than just a piece of me. She’s one of the very best pieces of me.

And I’m going to have a very hard time letting that piece of me go.