Downhill slide

Bug will be starting school in under a week.
He's ready.
I'm not.
But what's new?
My kids have always been more eager to see what's over the next hill than I am.
I'm the one dawdling as we walk up the hills.
(The Hills are alive . . . with the sound of Mommy bitching!)
It is very hard to watch my babies grow up, to realize that they are making strides towards becoming self sufficient big people who will one day put me in a nursing home, feed me prunes, and lock the bathroom door. (It's tradition, huh, Mom?)
I'm afraid to close my eyes for fear I'll be in the car while they careen around, newly blessed with a learning permit.
Or that I'll be standing at their college graduations.
Or they'll be showing me the person they plan to marry.
Or handing me my grandbaby.
Or moving away.
All rites of passage, I know. But considering it hasn't been that long since we had a time share arrangement on my uterus, poor slow poke Mommy is having a tough time changing gears that fast.
Things are getting stripped and not in the way The Man enjoys.
Sending Boo off was painful. But he's thriving.
Sending Bug off will be visceral.
He's my first.
He's my miracle.
He's Bug. Temperamental, amazingly intelligent, a fantastic snuggler, and the first person I ever loved wholly and selflessly.
And now he'll be stepping into the halls of academia and leaving me, tissue in hand, staring through the window and hoping he's having fun, while wondering if he misses me.
Because I know I'll miss him.