There are moments when I find myself staring out the window or at a blank word document, struggling to put words on the screen, watching the clock tick down to a looming due date. Just thinking and imagining what it will be like…
I cannot wait for Peanut to start school next fall.
I realize he is my baby. The last of the children. But still. I can’t wait.
Believe me or don’t but I catch myself staring out the window, thinking of what it will be like to have a house quiet (save Brian’s snoring after a rough night at work), the things I could do in a quiet house, (go back to sleep) run to the store on my own… spend the day working at the library if I so choose (and I would choose. Often.) the television to myself… I can watch whatever I want! No Dora, Diego, Franklin, Little Bear (though I’ll miss them all dearly)… I imagine it being like Christmas, getting your driver’s license, and my first kiss all rolled into one. My heart races at the thought.
I envy the moms who say their kids are all in school while they stay at home (I imagine the freedom). Having all the kids in school is a life long (4 years really) dream of mine that in under a year will become a reality.
Before you burst my bubble and tell me that I will be just as busy with them all at school as I was with them home… just stop. You’re not telling me something I don’t already know but as a work from home professional… this is huge. This is client calls without cartoons or video games in the background. This is outings for research on topics to wherever I need to go and not have to worry about bathroom breaks, lunch or naptimes.
This is what I imagine heaven will be like. I can almost picture angels singing in the background now as I wave goodbye to Peanut on his first day of school.
Awww hell. I might actually get to hold my annual (thus far imaginary) Margaritas at Noon Back to School Party. You’ll all be invited. You’re welcome.
I know it sounds heartless but on the first day of school you’ll likely catch me waving the bus goodbye with a tear running down my cheek. Don’t be sad for me. Those aren’t tears of sadness at all. It’s complete and utter joy.