I just don't know what to do with myself. A tale of the first day of school, and the last day of full-time motherhood.

I'm alone at home, without a child, for the first time in FIFTEEN YEARS!

I just don't know what to do with myself.

No kids shows. No demands for breakfast, 2nd breakfast, 3rd breakfast (because apparently I'm raising Hobbit children) and snack. No nagging to pick clothes off bathroom floors. No nagging to wash hands or brush teeth or saying "get your hands out of your pants". No more quiet inquiries of "I just want to hug you, mom" or "can you read me this story?". No more three hour discussions on the geography of Middle Earth, and just how powerful Gandalf is. . .

. . . and I just want to cry. All day. Like a baby. Because I miss my babies. And yet, I am so excited for Dashiell, as he enters the big-boy world of kindergarten, and lunch lines, and school buses, and 8 hours, 5 days a week, away from home, making his own big-boy-way in the big-boy-world.

The other four kids started school last week. Since Washington state has implemented day-long kindergarten state-wide this year, all kindergarten students started today. It was done so that parents could meet the teachers and introduce their 5 year olds to the classroom prior to the mad rush of the first day of school. We met his teacher last Friday. Lovely lady, that was seemingly impressed -- and entertained -- with Dashiell. His vocabulary. His ability to read his name and other basic words. His knowledge of letters and numbers. His extensive knowledge of Middle Earth (and thank goodness she knows her Tolkien or all this knowledge might be lost on her). How broccoli is only 2nd to marshmallows on his list of favorite foods, and that mushrooms taste like Rivendale. That he doesn't like getting haircuts. That I am one proud mom to have such a delightfully entertaining, animated, and intelligent son.

And so the excitement has really been building for Dash since Friday. Who had done some preschool last year in Oklahoma, and who REALLY enjoys going to school. We've been so excited, we've been counting sleeps! And once the school clothes were being set out last night by Pedro, it really kicked in . . . with kisses and cuddling me and more kisses and his little body just trembling with elation. He crawled in next to me in my bed, and began to implore "can I sleep with you tonight, mom? Just one last night before I'm a big boy going to school and have to sleep in my own big boy bed forever?". So I had him ask Pedro, and Pedro agreed because it's really hard to turn down such an excited Dash . . . and he made himself a bed on the couch so that Dash could be the "baby" just one last night. I counted my blessings in all the good I have in my life, and set about trying to get Dash to calm down. Because he twitched, and trembled, and kicked his little legs and begged me to tickle his back and to cuddle him and . . . and . . . and . . . finally fell asleep. In my arms. It probably won't be the last time, but it felt like it last night. So I held him, and I breathed in the scent of little man (he still has that underlying baby-smell of sweet mother's milk and Johnson's baby shampoo. Well, when he doesn't smell like dirt, peanut butter and Frito feet) that's rapidly changing into big-boy-scents and big-boy-size faster than I can keep track of. 

Dreaming of air-bows and Power Rangers, I'm sure.

Six-thirty came quick enough, and I really had to work to get the little man up. A few gentle nudges, some firmer shakes, and finally "don't forget -- it's your first day of school!" sent him flying out of bed. He dressed quickly. He brushed his teeth thoroughly. He met Shane's teasing and big brother torture with giggles and a few friendly punches. He only gave Eden half a fight when it came time to "do his hair up handsome".

"You aren't trying to make me look like Edward, are you?"

The whole time he would take little breaks, and stop what he was doing to come hug and kiss me. The big kids gave advice about the cafeteria lunch lines. They gave him a white plum from our orchard to take to his teacher. Pippi sneaked a Despicable Me toy into his backpack. We all checked and double checked that he had all his school supplies. And when it was time to head out to the road for the bus, he lead the charge. Until he saw me come outside behind them and then he stopped, turned, and ran back just to give me one more kiss goodbye. 

I walked with him to the road (our driveway end IS the bus stop), despite my Eden's protestations of just how UNCOOL it is to have her mother out there (I can out eye-roll her, by the way), and gave up the argument when I pointed out to her there is NO WAY I am missing the opportunity to see my last baby off to his first day of school.  And yes, I WILL be taking thousands of pictures. Duh.

So I got hugged and squeezed and kissed only about a hundred more times. I got a ton of hamming it up for my camera. Eden also shared in the kisses and the hugs and even some hand-holding. Someone had to help him hold in all that excitement! 

The bus finally arrived. . . where he was naturally elected the first of the clan to clamber aboard . . . and he introduced himself quite exuberantly to the driver.

 "Hi! I'm Dash!"

He was seated in the front, with all the other kindergartners. He could see me through the bus doors -- where he waved from his bus seat with practically his whole body -- and I wondered just how much he wanted to hop off the bus to give me one more kiss and hug goodbye. I held it together, my heart bursting with pride and with just a small touch of sorrow. Because this is it. This is the last time I'll send one of my babies off to their first day of kindergarten. Their very first day of school. These beautiful, bright children who have not, across-the-board, brought home "red slips" or disappointing grades. Whom I receive praise and delight about from their teachers, collectively, all these years. Beautiful, intelligent, wonderful children. And SO MANY children! Watching them all line up to board the school bus took my breath away! Yes, my hands are full. But my hands are not nearly as full as my heart.

 (Left-to-Right: Pippi, Crysta, Eden, Shane and Dash) 

As I turned to walk back to the house, the acidic burn of bus exhaust in my nose, I began to weep. Because this is it. The house is so quite. It's just Pedro talking in his sleep and the ever present drone of the wasps outside my office window. And my sniffling, of course.

I just don't know what to do with myself. . .

But be so terribly happy and excited for Dash, and just so dang proud of them all.