Tomorrow is LT's last day of pre-school. LT spent two years at this pre-school, Trouble also spent two years at this pre-school. We have spent four years with the same wonderful group of teachers. The boys have loved their time there, and I am sad to see it come to a close. Much sadder than they, I'm sure. Trouble moved on three years ago, so it's of no consequence to him now. Though he's been jealous as all get out that LT gets to play all the time at school, go swimming on Fridays, when he has to work all day. He'd go back to pre-school in a heart beat if you let him. LT can't wait to go to kindergarten. He's way too excited to be one of the big boys to miss his beloved pre-school. He will miss it, though. I know he will, even if he's too excited to see it.
I already have LT's yearbook and report card. I won't be dropping him off or picking him up tomorrow. My final trip to the pre-school has been made. Somehow this mile stone is much more bitter sweet for me than so many others. I couldn't wait to stop nursing. I threw out the last bottle with glee, did a dance for joy when the diapers came off and diaper pail sat on the street, was thrilled to have spent the last dollar ever on pull ups. The sippy cups are still sitting in my cupboard, though I'm ready to toss them, and will be thrilled to rid myself of those stupid spigots, every cup with a different one, somehow I can never find the right one for the cup I'm trying to use.
Babyhood aggravation be gone! I do not miss their baby days. I do not have baby lust.
I am so glad to have my two little boys, riding bikes (LT's just learned the two-wheeler this week. Skipped training wheels altogether.) and playing baseball. It's so much easier, so much more fun than the sleep deprivation, spit up, diapers and mastitis.
LT's made so much progress in the last two years, it's utterly remarkable to me. He was so little last year, and shy, clinging to my legs when I dropped him off in the mornings. There's been none of that this year. He's a big boy now. He knows his colors, finally, and most of his letters. Can count to thirty without too many mistakes. He's yards ahead of where Trouble was at this point, which is such a relief. I'm sure some of that is due to being a younger sibling and watching as his brother learn his letters, and paying attention as we practice spelling words. Still, reading and writing has been such an uphill battle with Trouble, it's nice to see him progressing without the fighting, complaining, obstinance and tears. And Trouble has been progressing too. He finally met his language testing benchmark a few weeks ago, for the first time EVER! It's really been a big year for them. They're still my little boys, but they're not quite so little anymore.
Somehow saying good-bye to their pre-school years, that time when they're so full of energy, so happy, learning and growing so fast, making their first friends, really becoming their own little person, is not all that joyful. Realizing that they're growing out of that stage is much harder for me. Now I want them to slow down a little. I want them to stop growing up and maturing quite so fast. I don't want to see that glint of innocence go out of their eyes too soon. They're not teenagers yet, but somehow it's starting to seem much closer on the horizon than I'd realized.