Things I Will (and Won't) Miss

This afternoon I picked my daughter up from Daycare for the last time. The Misses (Miss Kimberly, Miss Kelly, etc) gave her hugs and told her how much they would miss her. She squeezed her friends and made me leave our phone number in case any of the mommies wanted to call for a play-date. She has been attending for several years and she was sad to be starting school full-time and more than a little reluctant to leave the familiar “school” behind.


My reaction was somewhat different than hers. If you could have videotaped my exit you would have seen a grown woman in a business suit click her heels like a rodeo cowboy (Yee Ha!) For good measure I added a couple of dance moves that would have made Lady Gaga proud (shuffle left, shuffle right, box my head in with my hands, shimmy—you get the idea.) Three kids and thousands of dollars in Daycare costs and I’m done!!! I just got a screaming pay raise without having to hit the boss up for it, and I’ve already made plans to meet my friends for lunch next week where I will splurge on a big juicy burger. If that burger goes to my head I might just go out and buy me a car with my raise—probably American muscle—definitely red.

There are things in life that I just won’t miss—and paying for child care is one of them. When other moms asked me if I was sad that my youngest was in school, I’m sure I looked at them as if they’d just sprouted a third eye and were speaking in tongues. I won’t miss the way she grows out of her shoes every six months, or the fact that she likes to shop for the pretty shoes almost as much as her mom. I won’t miss the crying fits brought on by her brothers using her favorite stuffed bear as the prisoner in their war games.

But there are things that I will miss so much that my heart aches just thinking about them. I will miss listening to her say her prayers at night. She clasps her tiny hands together and squeezes her eyes shut while she asks for things from her Heavenly Father with full faith that he will deliver. She’s so innocent and sincere that if I were Him, I would give her everything she asked for instantly. I am glad that didn’t happen tonight, however, because she asked for a baby kitty. We already have two, and one of them woke me up at two this morning so I’m not keen on more.

I will miss the running dialog that goes on from the backseat while I drive her around with me. She tells me everything her best friend wore to school today and why she thinks the school needs better things to play with like Barbies. I will also miss the way she walks around singing all the time. Most of the time she’s Ariel, the Little Mermaid, singing “Ah, Ah, Ah,” in ever increasing crescendos. But sometimes she’s singing something she overhead on Glee—generally a single bar of music, over and over. And, most of all, I will miss the special way that little girls give squeezes and hugs and kisses on your nose.

Watching your kids grow is magical, frustrating, and heart-breaking. They will never be as little as they are today. Tomorrow they will wake up just a smidge older and another day will be gone, never to return again except in memory. But each day brings something new—sometimes it’s a challenge, sometimes it’s just a gift, you never know until you walk through that day. There are things about raising children that I won’t miss in the slightest—that is until a memory surfaces, whether joyful or heart-breaking, and I realize that--if I’m being completely honest--I’m going miss every single moment terribly.