The Kindergarten Cop-out.

Laurel is starting Kindergarten.

As I sat in the room full of parents with kindergarteners, you could see who was the first time kindergarten parents (the ask a million questions, sit in the front of the room kind), the baby of the family kindergartener (low riding in the back row), the parents who didn't really care (folders still sitting up on the front table for said kid... poor kid), to the hyped up well I've got an extremely important job, you're just lucky I made time for you parents (which happen to be the same parents who are telling you all about how much smarter their kid is comparatively, even though they don't have time to spend with them. Yet another... poor kid.)

I sat in the middle by force. Josh made me. I wanted to sit in the back. But I'm suppose to be a first time, teary-eyed, my poor baby is leaving me, kindergarten parent in the front row. Am I just odd and screwed up? Maybe I just take it in stride. Maybe I just don't care. She's starting to make her own decisions. She is able to step on the school bus by herself. She's excited. I'm excited for her, but I'm just not the crying kind of empty nest parent.

Am I really the kind of parent that is saying why aren't you eighteen and on your own already?

I love my kids. I instill in them that independence is important. Not that discipline and rules aren't equally if not more important. There's a balance. They can do things by themselves and be who they are. I love that they are comfortable with being independent from me. I'm not scared that it'll backfire on me when they are teenagers. If it does, it's meant to be. No parent is perfect and I don't expect nor want to be the "perfect" parent.

I'm just me. And they will be them. I hope that I've taught them well enough to go into the world and do what's right. But they will make mistakes and I will pick them up, brush them off, put their shoes back on and push them out the door again. They have to make mistakes to learn.

Let them live. They are God's children and He's watching out for them when they are out of my reach, or even when they are in my reach (sometimes especially so). They are the lucky ones. God knows what He's doing. And I gladly give my children to God.

So be it.

One step closer to becoming their own unique independent (hopefully well-balanced) adults.

To which the other parents look at me and say...

Poor kids.