So, back in the spring, I went to my daughter’s preschool graduation. Life is so busy, I’m just getting around to posting this now. (How’s that for procrastination?)
Before I had children, I questioned the sanity of people who let their little ones (along with themselves) get so taken up with the “pre-school graduation” or the “grade 8 grad” or any other kind of grad that wasn’t the true end of the schooling phase. I seriously wondered what had gotten into people that they would buy into this overdone, materialistic, way too outrageous idea of graduating kids through every phase of their schooling. And then I got the notice from my daughter’s preschool that the week after the program ended, they would be having all the kids back for a graduation ceremony to receive a certificate and to have fun and cake with their little friends. Well, I jumped on board so fast I rocked the boat. My baby girl was graduating from preschool and I was going to be front and center with my video camera…and I was.
This is a true example of the inner change that happens with the birth of a child. I don’t recognize the person I have become. I’m pretty sure I like her most of the time, but I’m not that familiar with her. She’s nothing like the woman I once was…she looks the same (except for some stretch marks and a little extra weight (ok a lot of extra weight) around the hips). She’s bolder, busier, doesn’t take enough time for herself, wants to look after everyone else when really, she’s the one who needs looking after sometimes, and she bears only a slight resemblance to the career-oriented, clear-minded, very decisive woman that used to inhabit this body. I know it’s me, but I don’t feel like me and I don’t really look like me anymore either. And I’m ok with that. For the most part.
My baby girl’s preschool graduation made me feel more proud than anything else I have accomplished to date. My little girl was growing up, and doing it well, and it is, in part at least, thanks to me.