freedom

Well here we go again. Another school year off and running. I swear I was just writing about the end of school, so quickly the summer flew. This year instead of moving on to kindergarten my young five year old is getting one more round of pre-k. Smart as a whip, he is like most boys, slow to mature. Spending the summer attached to my side has lead to a bit of separation anxiety when we get to class. He is not used to this new group of younger kids. Big and strong he towers over most. Tough yet sensitive his tears can break your heart in two. This is where I find myself today. As I peeked back in the classroom he was crying in his teacher's arms. Good Lord, did I really have to look back? By sheer force of will I walked myself out of that school with my heart breaking and promptly went to the park and walked off 5 miles of emotion. This is what I waited for all summer. My schedule, my own free time, freedom. Unfortunately my freedom is fraught with feelings of uncertainty. Not used to seeing such an independent child so clingy is disconcerting. I know it should make me feel more loved, more wanted, but it only causes emotional confusion. If you love them, set them free the saying goes and I know at the end of the day he will come back to me a little more secure in his surroundings. Each day will get easier, it IS only the first week of school. This became my mantra as I circled that park, quickly putting each mile behind me. Gazing at the lake I was again reminded that summer has not ended for this mom. Dreaming of my new sport and the next opportunity to get on the water brought a small smile to my face. By the end of my trek, my head was clear and I knew my child was in good hands. I knew the tears had stopped and he was busy helping and leading the smaller ones. So today I go off to my shop, alone, quiet, and somewhat peaceful. Tomorrow I can hunt for furniture or get on my paddle board or have coffee with my husband or get ready for the next big flea market. Whatever I do, I know my time belongs to me until that moment when the bell rings and he comes crashing into my arms and I am all his again. I love my freedom, but I love this sensitive rough and tumble child most of all. Good morning world.