As yet another school year ends today, I quickly realize that the summer will fly by and this fall my third and last child, my daughter, will begin her official school career in kindergarten.
With two older brothers she has become tough and hardened to the ways of elementary children. She will no doubt have no trouble going to school, being the little social bug that she is. I'll never forget when she delivered her supplies to the ECLC prior to classes starting and promptly told Miss Susan, "I have to do my homework here."
The first day of school, for me, will be as emotional as the day I took her kindergarten roundup. I mean, I was just fine until, I was driving away from the school that day up towards the stop light by Bomgaars.
I can't describe what came over me but I did indeed begin to cry and felt ridiculous for having done so. If I was like this now what would I be like this fall? It's not as if she's been by my side everyday of her life, well not all of it anyway, maybe about half of her now five years.
Is it because we share a "girly" bond in a house full of males or is it because she is my last child? I think it is because she is growing up and I have had so much fun watching her grow and change that I don't want that to end. As emotional as I was with the boys, this is somehow different and hard to describe.
I think back on the last ten and half years of my motherhood and realize that my kids have taught me as much as I've taught them. That must be it, I don't want the learning to end.
For example, did you know that the arm of the couch was not for your arms but was in fact a horse for my daughter to ride on. Even better is that the arm cover that never stays on it, is really a saddle for that horse. My daughter's imagination and storytelling has left me baffled and impressed many times.
Another example of a learning moment is when I cursed in the car at someone else's driving and my four year old son, and only child at that time, repeats, "Yea mom, he's just a @$%$%@$%." You instantly cover your own mouth, thankful no else can hear, and quickly explain that neither he or his mommy should be talking that way. The quote, "Out of the mouths of babes," will get you every time.
My middle son who is hot for anything with wheels particularly, tractors and construction equipment has, on numerous occasions, schooled his mom on the differences between a backhoe and a payloader and the finer points of a duel wheeled tractor and a tractor with tracks.
My middle son has also taught me an awful lot about the power of triumph. Somewhere along the way, and in spite of his learning disability, he has already begun to read, and his math skills are a little beyond his classmates.
He is so proud of himself when he reads to me, he puts on his big grin and puffs out his chest to the point of bursting at the seams for his accomplishment. The last several months of his progress has been a pleasant surprise and a lesson to me that "all good things come to those who wait."
One of the best parent lessons occurs when my oldest son is arguing with us, as he frequently does, and suddenly makes a point that you can't hardly argue with. Looking to my spouse for further support, only results in a smug smile, a shrug of the shoulder, and the lift of the eyebrow that conveys, "He has a point." We both think he would make a great lawyer.
My oldest is also the curious type and likes to read. He shares what he reads with me and sometimes "quizzes" me about what I know. When I know the answer his response is "darnit" and when I don't know he tells me the answer and says, "You really didn't know that mom?" He likes to be sure that he knew something that I didn't.
Perhaps the most important lessons that our children teach us is, humility. The quality or state of being humble. As parents we quickly become aware, that for all our status or lack of status, our children will do and become the kind of individuals they want to be in spite of what we want them to be. Thereby making us parents, humble.