And He's Off to Kindergarten

I was talking to a friend a few years ago right around the time summer was winding down and everyone was gearing up for the first day of school. Predictably, our Facebook newsfeeds were filled with sappy status updates and then, a few days later, obligatory first day of school pictures. Most of the captions read something like, "Can you believe Tommy is starting kindergarten?!"

At the time, I had a preschooler and an infant, so the idea of a school-aged child and all of the angst and emotion that goes along with the first day of school seemed eons away to me.

Anyway, my friend said something like, "All of these 'Can you believe it' posts are funny. Because, yes, I can believe it. You had a baby five years ago, which makes him five years old, which is when the majority of kids start kindergarten. It's not really that unbelievable.'"

I remember laughing, and nodding my agreement. Of course I can believe your kid is going to kindergarten. But now that it's mine? Well, it's kind of unbelievable.

It's unbelievable because, when it's your own kid, chronological time kind of goes out the window. I look at Camden's face and I see an inquisitive five-year-old with his daddy's eyes and my cowlick, but I also see the tiny baby that I endlessly pushed around the house in a stroller, willing him to fall asleep. I hear his voice-- a steady stream of chatter discussing everything from white blood cells to the solar system-- but I can also still hear him yelling, "BABABABABA!" in his high chair, marking the first time he ever truly babbled.

So, I see him now, but I see him then too. And sometimes the then is hard to let go; and sometimes the now moves a little too quickly.

First Day of Kindergarten, 2015-2016