Something in the air?!

I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s something in the air. Perhaps it’s the pollen that’s been floating around; maybe the yellow dust it leaves on the porch has permeated my brain. Maybe it’s a hormonal flux. Or some sort of lunar phase. Whatever it is, it has moved me to tears more times than I care to admit over the past week.

My daughter Ciara had her last day of gymnastics on Wednesday and when I arrived to observe, she leapt up out of her pike pose, squealed “MaMA!!!!!!!!” with delight and scampered into my lap like a snuggle-bunny. And I started sniffling like a ninny -- which almost turned into sobbing like a fool when she got her year-end trophy. A trophy! Not only can my girl do a somersault, she has a trophy to prove it! Sob!

On Thursday, it was her last day of preschool … well, technically, it was just the end of her “3 day 3s” program – she’ll be going back in the fall for the “5 day 4s”… which makes it all the more ridiculous that I was once again moved to tears. Looking at the sweet little photo album she received as a memento of the year was just too much. Similar to the caterpillar to butterfly transformation she has told me so much about, my own little lady has morphed into a real little girl. A real kid. And, from what they told me, a kid who is as fast on the playground as she is in the classroom. It’s admittedly with a fair amount of pride that I thought “yep, that’s my girl!” Sob!

Then there’s my oldest son, Liam, whose last day of kindergarten is rapidly approaching. I had to pick up his first grade school supplies this week – an event that already had me on the verge but, as I strolled through his elementary school, taking in the pictures and poetry that adorned the walls, I just couldn’t help myself. Sniffle. Sniffle. SOB! My little boy is growing up! He’s going to be a FIRST GRADER!!!!!! Oh where oh where does the time go?!

Speaking of time, I found myself cleaning out the triplets’ dresser AGAIN this week. Given that I’ve got three toddlers sharing one dresser, it’s no wonder that rapid turnover is required. I guess I just wasn’t ready for them to outgrow all the 12-18 month stuff so soon! I was overcome with nostalgia as I put the too small onesies in hand-me-down piles for my sister and friends. This is really the end of the onesie for them. At 20 months, frankly, I’d be hard pressed to find a onesie that fits – on their bodies or in their drawers! Even so, saying good bye to the onesies really represents saying good-bye to the baby days… for them and for me. They’ll have no more onesies and I’ll have no more babies. SOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s over. The gymnastics, the “3 day 3s”, kindergarten and onesies. It’s all over and I must say, good byes have never been my strong point. In fact, my husband always starts to hustle me out of any social setting a good half hour before we need to leave because he knows it will take at least that long for me to bid my farewells.

So, in this past week that’s been full of endings, I’ve been full of tears. And while I’d like to chalk it up to something in the air, I suppose I must confess that’s it’s really something in me. Something that simply needs a moment to be nostalgic about the endings before I can embrace the new beginnings. Fortunately, experience has already shown me that as quickly as time does fly by, it just keeps getting better and better. And, come to think of it, I probably won’t miss wrestling three squirmy babies into onesies anyway!