For the record those are preemie clothes. Pinch me now and grab me tissues.
Truthfully, when I finally sat in my seat with my two boys for graduation I was in 4th child mode. I rushed to iron the dress she wore, it was a precious hand-me-down from her older sister, and we arrived ten minutes late. All of this with my boys constantly touching eachother (anyone else have boys? anyone? why can't they just NOT touch eachother?) and I was a little out of the moment.
Until of course, everything started. I was catapulted back into cheesy mom mode, and my eyes filled with tears as my baby flashed on that slideshow as "What a Wonderful World" played over the loud speakers.
Relief washed over me. Four preschool graduations in and I am still cheesy. Hallelujah I thought I lost my touch.
To add salt to the wounds, on the way to the car, I was walking behind my oldest and my youngest. They have a happy harmony that doesn't involve chaos, poking each other, fishhooks in the mouth or any competition what-so-ever.
Not only do I cherish this sibling love, I look to the left at my oldest and it makes seeing my youngest graduate preschool not so bad. I can vividly remember pulling away from the school the first day I dropped him off at kindergarten. I felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. Literally. I drove away in tears wondering if I should just go into the school and tell the teacher we won't be needing kindergarten this year.
I didn't. Looking back I think it wasn't such a bad idea.
In two weeks he'll finish 7th grade, and he's taller than I am. He weighs more too. He is a nonstop eating and growing machine, and I have no way of slowing him down.
Just like I have no way of slowing my youngest down.
All I can do is enjoy. Every. Single. Minute.
Even the crappy fishhook stuff. It's all part of the journey.