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The last first day.
It’s pretty…stunning, I guess. I feel stunned. A bit numb, and a lot in denial.
But baby, IT’S HAPPENING. And I honestly think I can feel OK about it, maybe even a bit excited. Mostly, it’s because I’m realizing that he’s ready. Or at least, he’s definitely getting there. Parker gets it done. He takes care of his business. Now that his business very much involves a looming college career, I’ve seen a shift in him. I’ve seen the MAN in him…and it’s impossibly endearing. Lax PBO has steadily morphed into National Honor Society, SAT score-chasing, Varsity Baseball, Environmental Club(??), Stand leader, AP-taking Parker Day Boles. And the motivation is 100% his own. My breath catches every night when he comes downstairs to squeeze my hand before bed. I know, more than ever, that we are officially on a hand-squeeze countdown. I’m savoring.
And Baby Bailey is in high school. Why not? (sob). My beautiful theater freak has plunged headfirst into the KC Drama world, and it’s such a perfect fit. I can’t wait to see her perform in Clue, and I know that there are many, many more productions to come. Bailey is deeply passionate, if not fickle, and her Glass Animals, Bo Burham, Heartstopper, Rocketman devotion knows no bounds. I honestly don’t know where in the Elijah Wood, Rami Malek, Test Kitchen Guy on Instagram she gets it from. This girl is my best friend, and not just in the stupid way that moms feel inclined to describe their relationships with their daughters. Clothes shopping is our Achilles heel because WHAT DO YOU EVEN LIKE ANYMORE, ANYWAY?? It is but a wee obstacle in a truly precious relationship.
Parker drives Bailey to school. With a 6:30 departure time, I am so incredibly thankful for this arrangement. I am also not-so-secretly wistful that this 20 minute morning commute will be just the thing to allow their neglected sibling relationship to blossom. I want so deeply for them to connect and share with each other, but it just can’t be forced. There is plenty of love there, but I’m pretty resigned to the fact that it won’t be fully discovered in their teenage years. But hey, my older brother and I had the exact same situation growing up. We didn’t fight, but really only communicated through grunts and chin lifts. But NOW, we couldn’t be any closer. Truly! We talk almost daily, share hugs and “I love you”s, and all it took was our mom dying! (if dead mom jokes aren’t your cup of tea, I do apologize…but sometimes they’re all I’ve got.)
I do know this – every parent and grandparent, alive or otherwise, is wildly proud of our Sweet P and Bill. I have such unending gratitude for getting to be their mom.
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