Moo started Kindergarten today.
Today I placed my middle child, my baby boy, the one who restored my love of babies, the child responsible for making me so clucky that I yearned for another baby and stupidly, delightedly caused me to fall pregnant again when he was 3 months old, today I let him go.
Today, I threw my middle son into the care of a gaggle of educated and incredibly paitent women that I barely know. (Something that a survivor of childhood sexual abuse has a constant inner permanent fear of.)
I THANK the holy goddesses of kindy land though, and I bow down to that goddess like I have never bowed before.
The truth is; we were ready for this. I was so ready for this.
As I opened my Facebook this morning I saw article after article, status after status, about people sending their kids off to Kindy just as I was that day. They spoke of the tears, the trepidation, the inner most fears of sending their babies away to become more independent and entirely new, wiser human beings.
Not me, said I…. Not me, I’m way cooler and collected than y’all (I said Y’all). I had no feeling of sadness, no actual: “Omg my baby, wahhhhhhhh”, none of it, I am as cold as ice…. All I was also thinking was “Thank fuck” ….
We were so ready. Moo has outgrown our everyday home family life in many ways, I am convinced he is already smarter and more worldly than I am, which is something I idolise about him, he flourishes in new environments like a yeasty bread in a bowl by a warm sunny window. Moo has the face of a little cherub with the brains of a night gazing astronomer, he is bright and warm like the sun through the treetops of an evergreen forest, he is adored like a puppy in a pet store window, all floppy eared and waggy.
He is fan-fucking-tastic. And I am biased.
The truth is, in the last year Moo’s presence has intimidated me, not because he is better or because I am less or that there are any issues with respect or love. But because I just like who he is, I like the person he is, I like him as a person, just as I like a new friend, a friend that I can’t tell likes me or not. That’s him.
I watch him flit around in social situations intriguing, engulfing everything and everyone around him. He sucks it all into his ‘Moo world’ like a drain, sucking it into his whirling mind to never come back out.
He almost spews out this rainbow of colour into the world, onto things and people, we often talk of this fear that we have; that the world will one day take his love of people and his love of life from him, the fear that the world will take and take, a fear that the world could crush him one day .
My biggest struggle will be and has been to allow him to keep his wildly beautiful perception on the world, while still teaching him that in the grand scheme of things some people can just be ‘C.ee U. N.ext T.uesdays’.
People will do whatever they like, which is where we all get hurt, chewed up and spat out.
He is this powerful entity that is far bigger than me, so much that I feel like he could outgrow me emotionally one day and just disappear into the amazonian jungle dressed in a fedora cap, armed with a suitcase of toy cars no one will ever be allowed to touch (all because the butterflies are prettiest there). The bewilderment he has with the world around him is something that can only be described as intense curiosity.
I can only dream that this intense curiosity stays with him, that his love for it will follow him as far as he needs it to and that no one will tell him that he won’t be able to do something or that he can’t. Because he can. If they do I can only plead with him to understand that whatever they say isn’t true because nothing is set, nothing has to be commonplace or regular and that he can create his own normal. It will never really matter what he does, as long as he’s a decent person and isn’t going around killing people.
So my little Moo, I am not only glad that you are now in Kindy because I don’t have what it takes to stimulate you and because I need a mother fucking break, but because you have outgrown me and you need to experience this world. The world will make you brave, it will make you fearless. It will make you this extraordinary man, one who does what he wants, when he wants with no expectations from me or your family because who you are is who you are (as long as you are you).
Whether you become a depressed mess for half of your life, weather you become a policeman like you say you will be or just a ‘person’ like your sister says she will be, I will be proud. We will be proud.
So as we drove away from the kindy today leaving you playing at a table on your own, your dad and I, both had to hold back the tears, swallow the building lumps in our throats and the trepidation we felt when we left you there today. We drove away experiencing the unwavering fear and excitement every parent today felt, knowing that our little children are never going to be the same little children that we knew, just before that moment, only moments ago.
It turns out, I am just like all you other mums, biased, sooky-fucking-messes.
Maybe I wasn’t ready after all.