Sunday, August 30, 2009

Slipping through my fingers

Well apart from feeling crummy, (tired, stressed, anxious, busy) I thought I was excited and happy for Allie to start school, I really thought i wouldn't be sad at all, I am SO excited for her to start this new phase, and I am admitting that I am excited to have some one on one time with Luke and 2 kids who nap mean I may get a nap, or some Momma time here and there now. But then I started realizing my baby is growing up. She will never not be in school again, (Well till she is all grown up at least ) She isn't a baby anymore, and she isn't going to be as loving and sweet all the time like she used to be. She will start having a life outside of the one she has had with me. I am so glad she didn't go last year for 100 reason. But I am so glad I had an extra year with my girl home. I hope she knows how loved she is, I hope I have taught her well enough, I hope she knows I am always going to be here for her. I want to hold onto her and not let her go, but I know I can't do that. So the fact is I am going to cry Thursday, Maybe even Tuesday. I love my Allie girl so much. I hope I am a good enough mom for her, I know I am blessed to have such a good daughter.

What ever you do don't Ever listen to ABBA's Slipping through my fingers right before your first child starts school ... Bad Idea....Very bad.








3 comments:

Amy said...

OH don't make me cry. I still have another year before that moment. :) I am so glad I also didn't put Milan in preschool. This is the last year until she starts up and I want all the time with her. She is such a sweetie and I worry about her being corrupted by other kids. SCARY WORLD...... Your a good mommy.... Can't wait to see you guys in a few weeks.

sugaryfrogs.blogspot.com said...

Seriously is that a picture of Phoebe at the bottom? We can cry together on the first day. :(

The Conductor said...

Awww!!! You're makin' ME cry!

In all of living have much of fun and laughter. Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured. President Gordon B. Hinckley