The last first time. There are a lot of these as our children grow up. The last first time they ride rear facing in a car seat. The last first day of preschool. There are many of these moments and most we do without thought because we don't realize that they are the last time. Like when we washed their hair for them. Do you really remember when it was? Probably not, because in a moment, like a flash, they just did it for themselves. When you look back, you probably will do it right now, trying to think on when you did. Sad, right? Do you even know? I was struck with the hardest one as a parent that we deal with on Monday. The Last First Day of School. Senior Year. Ahead of schedule.
My oldest daughter won't be 16 until mid August; she would normally have been a junior. Due to her hard choice of course work, she is going to graduate early. We knew it was possible last year, but she didn't want to do it. Now though, she is terribly excited and decided just this last week to do it after speaking with her principal and counselor. It is staggering the fast track we start planning for: senior picture for the yearbook, ACT registration and early admissions are due soon for a few of the colleges she is interested in. I was not mentally prepared for this onslaught of emotion that crept up on me as we plan for high school graduation.
I stood in my kitchen this morning, still giddy with the success of a huge interview I had posted yesterday with one of the top Social Media Influencers, and I stopped cold. Out of nowhere, I thought of the first day of school this year. It will be her last, first day picture. The last first time she picks out a back to school outfit. The last first day of school breakfast. The last first day of school. Period. College doesn't count in this. She will be an adult. This will not be the same for for any of us. There will still be pictures, yes, but those childhood photos are coming to a close. Every time she does something this year it is the last time. The last Homecoming, the last Spirit Week, the last Ugly Christmas Sweater Day, the last Prom. Thank goodness for getting to go as a sophomore. I will get the standard two, which makes me feel a little better. I then think of all the wonderful firsts that are ahead and I am excited. But for now, I want time to stop. And that is okay. I want to relish the moments we have right now and not rush a darn thing.
I look back and I think to myself, on one hand, I am so proud of her achievements. She is so bright and ambitious. She has wanted to be a doctor since the fourth grade. She has met that challenge head on and I have no doubt that this child will change the world. But this, my first born, wreaked havoc on me a little bit on the scale of emotional registry this week. Things that I had put off because I was waiting until next year to worry about them; I have to meet these demons head on and prepare this girl for college. I am terrified. I am proud. I am happy. I am sad. She gets her driver's license in a week or so and a diploma in few months. That rattles me. Some would say, "She's too young to do that." I tell those people this, "You don't know my daughter". She is driven, mature and has a good head on her shoulders. She has been preparing for this for the last three years and is an "A" honor student. She is as ready as she is going to be. I have raised an intelligent, passionate, beautiful girl and I will turn her over to the semi-adult world of college next year. We are at the jumping off point. It is scary, but I will come to terms with it because she is ready. So I have to be, too.
I think where did the little girl in pig tails go? She hasn't really gone anywhere, she is still here. Still my baby. My first born. She made me a mom. Gone are the pig tails, and I still don't know when I did her hair in them the last time. It was the blink of an eye. A moment that slipped through the cracks with out any fanfare, or recognition, or grief of its loss. What I will hold on to a little tighter this year, her Senior Year, is the last first time of everything this year. The last first time she gets up for her first day of regular school and all the others this year will be documented a little closer, even more so than my usual hoard of photos, and cry and laugh and be proud all at the same time. The last first time she gets a first day of school picture will be the hardest for me I think. I have two others coming up the line here in school and don't get me wrong, I cherish each moment of all three of them. This moment in time is hers alone, just like it will be for the second child in a few more years...and I do it again. The worst one? Probably the baby. It is already the last of first times for him in everything. The end of me doing all of those mommy things that we read and write about. An entire new chapter in their lives to cherish. For my oldest, it's the end of an era, but the beginning of the rest of her life and I will hold her hand every step of the way as long as she lets me.
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