Month: August 2018

My baby is starting kindergarten, and I’m a hot mess.

My oldest son is my mini-me. (Poor child.) He is nerdy and passionate. Sensitive and serious. Fun-loving and kind. He loves baseball and music. He has crooked arms with the little bumps on the back them and knobby knees. He has long legs and a contagious smile. Even to strangers, he is undeniably my son. He is a momma’s boy, too. And honestly, I’m just as smitten and obsessed with him. My mini-me–my heart–my baby–is starting kindergarten next week. And I am devastated. To be honest, I have always been a pretty tough mom. I’m the type of mom who will force her kids on the ride at the amusement park no matter how much they cry because I know in the end they need to experience the world and learn to push through fear (and I know they will end up loving it). When my child falls, I’m the mom who stays in her seat, looking up long enough to say, “Get back up! You are fine!” when I don’t see any broken bones …