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California born, Nashville living, lots of babies, lots of lifestyle. Hang around and let's be friends!

LETTING THEM GO, EVEN IF IT FEELS LIKE BULLSHIT

LETTING THEM GO, EVEN IF IT FEELS LIKE BULLSHIT

 

Letting them go. I call bullshit.

I had a strong gimlet last night. Strong. I sat on the sofa with Kona Blue and her Dad while we watched the women's gymnastics and I cried. It wasn't obnoxious or even noticeable, but I cried. Watching those girls and their skills representing USA, it just gets me every time. But Kona Blue practicing cart wheels, (the night before she starts Kindergarten), killed me.

Dropping my daughter off at Kindergarten this am, felt ok. I was strong, contained, had my shit together, I felt proud, anxious and ready. I followed all the rules, we got there on time, I held her hand tight. She held mine tighter. She looked around trying to familiarize herself with this new environment, she was taking notes in her head, slowly, carefully. She said her hellos, acted more shy then she normally is, held back her anxiousness yet walked down the halls like a boss. On the contrary, walking down the halls I, felt a bit uneasy. I was analyzing, I was unsteady, I felt unready.

But I didn't cry, I held it together. Kona Blue found her name at the table, she sat down, looked at me and waved her hand "come here", then whispered in my ear, "I'm excited". And boom. Dead on the floor I was. Tears. Who is this child? My child. Ready to take on the world like a hero. 

As I backed away from the table, my husband nudged my shoulder like it's time to go (and it was).  I watched her intensely as we walked out and she kept her brown eyes glued to me,  smiling, comforting me like she was the parent and I was the child. I was floored.

We got in the car, drove off, a song came on the radio, and my husband said, "she's going to do great." And as a certain guitar lick started to play in this particular song, my body turned to mush and I began sobbing. Sobbing. My husband held my hand and the tears came pouring down. I had to let go.

Why is letting go so hard on the human heart? I've often compared parenting/motherhood to wearing your heart on the outside of your body, because it often feels so not secure. It feels fragile. These little beings we bring into the world to love, nurture, raise and teach, they are the foundation of your heart, once they are yours and it truly feels impossible to let go. But you do. Because you must. Because you have to.

But it's scary shit. It feels like bullshit. It hurts your heart a little. I'm not that Mom that walked in to school today full of confidence dressed impeccably with no nerves blaring for my 5 year old child. I was un-showered, hair disheveled, teary eyes, un-pedicured feet. I was scared to death. I didn't have all my shit together in fact and as soon as I saw another mother hugging her child goodbye and tears were pouring out of her eyes, I knew I made my first friend. 

Letting go is scary shit. It just is. But now that an hour or two have passed, and my Lukey is screaming upstairs because he doesn't want to nap, all reality has settled in and I've realized, all is going to be ok. My daughter showed me, that she's good. She's strong. She's smart. She's ready. And if that doesn't tell you that letting go is ok and everything is going to turn out fine, then I don't know what will.

Kona Blue, kindergarten is going to be awesome, because you're awesome. I'm proud to say, we've raised a good little girl and she's going to take on the world like a boss. 

I'm officially ready for my mimosa.

 

AN APOLOGY TO MY SISTER

AN APOLOGY TO MY SISTER

COTTON IS MY LOVE LANGUAGE

COTTON IS MY LOVE LANGUAGE