In the fall and in the spring, the seasons surrounding the snow on the ground, we ride our bikes. Lunches packed and backpacks ready, we cruise out of our driveway and down the sidewalk toward school.
Some days my little Kindergartener rides slow as can be, barely able to balance his center of gravity. He watches his shadow beside him or tries in a wobbled fashion to stay on a straight line that runs down the sidewalk ahead of him. On these days, my refrain goes, “hurry up, pedal a little faster, let’s get going, catch up now.”
Other days, he races ahead of me and I spend the ride part panicked that he might get too far ahead and forget to stop at the intersection.
Rare are the days when the timing is paced and even and relaxed. Rare are the days when time seems just right.
This morning, on his last day of Kindergarten, he did both. Slow and falling behind, deep in thought about something and then suddenly he decided to race ahead. We made it to school and then little things inside me I can’t quite pinpoint, began to melt and break and shift.
Other mothers were there with me— we stood a bit stunned at drop off, holding back the tears, because we think it a little nutty of ourselves to cry at the last day of drop off on the Kindergarten yard.
But, the firsts and the lasts are rough man! They are rough because so many of our days are spent working and cleaning and organizing and getting little people where they need to be for important things… and the days… they go so quickly.
The sun goes down and then up again and we don’ t often reach out and hold on tight to the moments passing.
But those firsts and lasts… they make us pause and see that time has been rushing and we want to press a pause button and take back all the moments where we ever said those crazy words, “hurry up.”
We want time to be reasonable. But, I’ve found time to be the most unreasonable thing in this life. It just never seems to cooperate with me. I want to say, “Time, you are not allowed to go any faster. These are my babies and it is totally unreasonable that I have one leaving Kindergarten, one leaving Elementary school, and one leaving Middle School. So settle down Mister!”
Sweet mamas, if you cried a little this week at the lasts, you are in no way unreasonable or nutty. You are just a mama and time is the unreasonable one.
I wish slow sweet summer days for you. May the words, “hurry, we’re late, get dressed, and we’ve got to go now!” take a summer break as well.