i know it’s cliché to say, but don’t know where the time is going.

seriously. i have this pretty little, albeit high maintenance, wall calendar, and to change the month, you have to take it down, untie the little string, flip the month, and retie it back up. i just flipped it to september since we are practically living in that busy month already, and i could swear i just flipped that calendar to august. i feel like my fingers went through all those little steps just yesterday.

and already today:

1.

clyde: poor scooby doo and his friends.

me: what about them?

clyde: all they do is solve mysteries. they never get to have any fun.

2.

clyde: mom, when can you tell me how you and daddy made leo?

me: later.

clyde: when? when i’m 6? 7? 8?

me: it’s complicated. too hard to explain right now. (shoves child out the door to school)

3.

me: it’s your last day of preschool today.

clyde: and you know why i’m not even sad?

me: why?

clyde: because they’re giving me a toy! woohoo!

so yeah, the end of preschool ultimately means the beginning of kindergarten. but that fact still hasn’t completely hit me. which worries me, of course. is his kinder teacher going to have to call in backup to deal with the breakdown that’s going to roar up out of me on the first day of school?

for today, i will just try to get through the last day of preschool.

*deep breath* (seconds pass)

a talking bunny e-card from one of clyde’s preschool teachers just popped in. his teacher (through the bunny) says some really nice “i will miss you” stuff to clyde and then she (through the bunny) says: clyde, you are and always will be special to me.” jesus. now i can’t stop crying. even just retyping those words made my face clench up into a tight, red ball of cryingness again.

i mean, it’s not that clyde’s going off to kindergarten. that’s great. he’s ready and i’m ready. i can’t wait for him to learn to read and write and to experience kinder wonder. it’s just this tiny glimpse at all the beginnings and endings he is setting off to experience in his life. he is becoming his own person. with his own friends and moments and loves. and he will have to say goodbye along the way. but more importantly, along the way, he will be leaving his beautiful beautiful mark—on people and on this world. wow. that is so huge a notion to me right now.

(sob! blows nose. gains some composure.)

it’s quite amazing. this gift. this life. the complexity of parenting. the way you want to push them out and hold them back simultaneously forever.

of course, i’m feeling that this blubbery reaction is all a tad dramatic of me to cry on and on about. i mean, leo’s starting at the same preschool in just a few months, and clyde will still see all of his teachers every week.

but then again, he will never be 5.5 the way he is today. he will never be a preschooler again or love that little school like he does right now. he is moving on. there is so much to look forward to and so much to leave behind. and there is really only one direction to go.