"Finally!!" you shrieked. I listened and heard the bus coming around the curve of our street, and held your hand a little tighter as you rushed to the edge of the sidewalk to wait. Not yet. Just wait. Just a second more, please.
"I know!" I said. "You've been up since 6:45 and were ready for school at 7, but had to wait all this time. But yep, 11:17, right on time, here's your bus!" Really? Where did the last 4 hours go? It's time already?
"No," you said "I'm finally big enough, mommy! I've been waiting for this for YEARS." And you have. You first tried to stow away on a school but when you were 2. It was hilariously adorable.
My breath caught and I forced a chuckle. "I know! Your whole life!"
The bus stopped and as the door swung open you ripped your hand away and shouted "BYE!" as you practically flew up the stairs. No backwards glance, no wave. I barely got the camera up in time. We have a lovely picture of your calf to commemorate your very first bus ride.
And with that, you were gone. I stood and watched until I couldn't see the bus anymore. I don't know how long I stood there. Long enough that baby S got impatient and yelled "Sawah!" to break me from my trance.
Once I got back inside, I set the babies down and just listened. It was so quiet. Even with a 1 and 2 year old in the house, the silence was deafening.
That, dear boy, is when your mama lost it. Totally broke down and cried big fat tears. Tears of joy for you, because I know how badly you've wanted to be in school. Tears of nostalgia, since you were just a roly-poly baby yesterday...obviously. Tears of acknowledgement that I'll never again send one of my own kids off on their first day of Kindergarten. Tears of transition as we head in to this new season of life, with all 5 of you in school. Tears of excitement for what the next chapter holds for our family.
You see, Charlie, it doesn't get easier for mommy. You're the fifth kid, and I still cry at the every day changes that you go through. Losing teeth, going to school, learning to read, learning to write. Every new milestone is a reminder that our time together in this daily craziness is rushing past faster sometimes than I can comprehend. The dimples on the backs of your hands are almost gone. Your shoulders are suddenly wider than I remember. A lot of your shirts no longer cover your belly. I'm starting to see muscle definition in your legs. Your toddler frogger belly is all but gone.
I am so proud of and excited for you. You have looked forward to this for so long, and now that it's finally here I want to do everything in my power to help you suck every ounce of joy out of the experience. Of all of our kids, you have been looking forward to school the longest, and I hope you keep that with you. To be fair, you look forward to everything the longest. You're the youngest of 5 and 10 years younger than your oldest sister. You do a lot of looking forward.
-------------------------------------------------
I sat on the porch and watched you walk home with your brother and sister that first day. I heard your voice before I saw you, shrieking and laughing as you raced your brother through the park. Heard your sister call for you to remind you to wait at the corner. I saw your head swivel left, and right, and left again before you all agreed it was safe and walked across the street. Samantha reached for your hand as you crossed and you grabbed it briefly, then looked up and said, "It's okay, Sam. I got it from here."
I saw a flash of my future and I smiled, hearing that refrain "I got it from here" as I watched you grow up in the blink of an eye, and knowing that being a mama to all of you is at the very top of the list of the greatest things I will ever do.
Your Daddy and I are so proud of you it hurts.
All my love,
Mama
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