I made my final preschool payment at the beginning of the month for A. I thought I’d be happier about it; it’s a lot of money, and though it’s worth it, it’s been hard. It was sad, though. I love A’s preschool and her teachers are incredible. She’s had a great education and is excited for kindergarten. I’ll miss seeing them. But, more importantly, it was the end of something greater. I’ll never have a preschooler again.
I’ve been home with A since she was born, and I loved it. I loved watching her grow, and being around for all of the special moments. They were some of the happiest years of my life. I’ll miss it.
But A will be going to school full day now, and I’m going back to work. These years have been amazing, but a struggle, and we need a dual income. It’ll be wonderful to be out of debt, and able to pay for kindergarten (and college, hopefully). We’ll be able to pay bills without having stomachaches. And in my case, it’ll be good to make money again, and to have an identity beyond “M and A’s Mom.” I like teaching and I’m excited to get back into the classroom. I’ve got writing projects too, which I’m looking forward to.
This is a crossroads I’ve been dreading for years. I wondered what I’d do when I couldn’t be with A all the time. Yet when I got back into the classroom, it was comfortable, and it felt good to make money again. I’m not as upset about it as I thought I would be.
A has four days of preschool left. I’m excited to go to her ending ceremony and look at her artwork, play with her on the playground and hold her hand on the way home. It’s still sad to think that her tiny hands are growing so big, and that this is the last time.