scribblechic

Tomorrow is my youngest child’s last elementary school classroom party. It’s a funny emotional hiccup that keeps pulling at my attention today, a small acknowledgment that these otherwise unexceptional experiences are exquisitely fleeting in their inconvenience. For all the times I cursed the chaos of crafts or the responsibility of organizing restless bodies into overly enthusiastic efforts at recreation, I am suddenly unwilling to imagine this is the last time I will chase after last-minute necessities or fuss over the impossibility of reinventing traditional games into politically correct, themed celebrations.

If I am entirely honest, I should confess that I won’t miss the preparations; the uncomfortable suspicion that I have overlooked or underestimated an idea. The secret insecurity that manifests in wanting to please the partygoers and not lose face among mothers who so often seem in possession of a secret knack for the task of controlled silliness. Most often I drift to the sidelines of the synchronized madness, marveling at the mechanics of my child’s community of peers and wondering at what futures wait for them as they grow further into the personalities I have had the privilege of witnessing.

More than the festivities of the day, I am mindful of the impossible goodbye within the routine of these elementary traditions. It is my second time navigating the halls of my children’s fifth grade experience, my last third party of the school year, and a bittersweet milestone as we near a new beginning and move further from the halls that guard memories of my husband, son, and daughter’s childhoods.

Tagged: Children, Milestones, Musings, School