I have only ever been a stay-at-home mom. This is not to say that I haven’t worked, because in fact, I have worked consistently since 6 weeks after The Who was born. But it has never interfered with the stay-at-homeness of my momming.
Until now. I’ve wanted this. I’ve been thinking about getting out of the adjuncting game for years and only finally just pulled the trigger on it when the exact right full-time job came down the pike. And now, with my start date simultaneously approaching and looming, I am starting to get sad about all the things I’ll be missing. Even the things I complain about — like the morning routine of getting him dressed and out the door. My face won’t be the last thing he sees before he runs down the sidewalk into school. My “I love you” will be faint in his head from hours earlier. And when other parents show up midday for classroom volunteering, it’ll never be me.
When he comes out after school, sweaty from an afternoon PE class, shucking off his backpack and asking to play on the playground, it won’t be me who is greeting him. In fact, he won’t even be coming out to the playground most days. He’ll be riding a bus to a friend’s or being greeted by someone else’s parent.
I am grateful for the help of my village. I think that’s important to say. That I recognize that in my absence, he will be sent off to school by his other mom, he will be picked up by good friends of mine who also love him. It’s the best possible scenario, so I recognize how lucky I am (and he is) to have that. But it won’t be me. And I will miss it. I will miss him.