"look, there's a bird."

my friend and i always joke that instead of facing problems, i tend not to look at them. if a conversation gets too sad or depressing or confrontational, i generally change the subject and try to make it end on a happy note. my friend has dubbed this my "look, there's a bird" strategy at dealing with life.

and i've been looking at a bird all weekend. every time i gaze wistfully at my oldest son and think about him going to kindergarten (on wednesday, i still have one day) i feel the tears sneak behind my eyes, threatening to spill. i can feel my chin quiver. and i automatically, very consciously, change the subject in my head. i'm completely aware that i'm doing it. i can even visualize myself drawing a big curtain and not going there. isn't this what they call "compartmentalizing?" i'm pretty good at it, whatever they call it.

anyway, i'm looking at this big bird and in the meantime my 5-year-old is so excited for school he can't stand it. it's awesome that he's so ready. he knows i'm a little sad about it, he's a pretty sensitive kid. he tells me it will be ok and that he will hug me as soon as he gets home. but he has told me several times that he really wants to ride the school bus the first morning. at first i was like "no way." i mean, didn't i earn the right to walk him to his kindergarten class when i gave birth? it's one of those milestones. i want to be there, to hold his hand and give him a hug before he goes off to grow up.

but the more i think about it, i just want my hand held.

this parenting thing, it's not easy. i love my kids to pieces and even the good things break my heart. i never thought, before children, that kindergarten could be some tramatic. i'm having a really, really hard time. i know with all certainty that my son will not cry. and i know, with equal certainty, that i will have a complete breakdown.

and i might as well have my breakdown at the bus stop, as i'm waving good-bye to my little boy. if i'm lucky, a really nice looking bird will fly by as the bus rolls out of sight...