“I had the best day!” my son exclaimed as he clambered into our car.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that!” I replied, hopping back in the driver’s seat. We did it. We’ve made it through our first official week of the school year. Like every year, it has come with mixed emotions. My kids are tired but happy. Some nights they were like melted puddles on the floor. Overstimulated, unable to process one more thing the day had in store for them. Other days, they went swiftly to bed with the excited anticipation of the new school day in the morning. I am so happy he had a “best day.” I place both my hands on the wheel. For a second, I questioned feeling glad for my son; I felt like I was gut-punched.
The first week of school can be a doozie. The mixed emotions don’t exclusively belong to my kids. I go through them too. One day I am feeling confident that the calculation of this routine is what I need to champion motherhood, the next moment I’m wondering why I can’t plan homework time for the specific window my daughter doesn’t end up in tears.
It can be chaos. There are lost shoes in the morning and crumbs tumbling out of mouths as backpacks are slung. It is a stark juxtaposition to the silence that appears after the bus pulls away—all in the span of 20 minutes. But there is something else. Something that tugs at me deep down in the pit of my stomach. It is pride, wonder, sadness, and joy all mixed together. It’s the wonder of how time went so quickly that my kids are one year older. It’s the joy of experiencing them mixed with the grief that they are one step closer to leaving my nest. It is pride that they can function and thrive in their classes at school and the sadness of missing them throughout the day.
This is what I want. I want them to tell me they have had the best day. If I had control, I would make every day their best day. This is what I’ve waited for. It kind of seems like I’ve waited for a lot of things. First, I had an excruciating wait to become a mother, then there was potty training, and letters and numbers, and a few other milestones along the way. I waited for them to become school-aged, and to enjoy all the wonderful things that came along with that journey. So, why am I sad?
It is because motherhood will never be just one thing. It won’t be only joy. It won’t be only pain. It will be all the things that make our hearts feel like they’re on rollercoasters. And that’s okay. I am allowed to be sad that my boy is growing up and overjoyed that he had a wonderful day.
Often, we mothers in the trenches hear things like “don’t blink” or “you’ll miss these days.” While I understand their meanings, I don’t know that they are helpful. One of the best things I’ve ever heard was from an empty nested mama. She told me that joy is in every stage, you just have to find it. I was seven months into my first pregnancy at the time, and I have never forgotten it.
So, I’m allowing myself to grieve and to feel, but I’m also forging ahead knowing that love and laughter will still find us in the future. I will continue to do my best for them and feel at peace knowing I did.
Mamas, as you send your kids off to school remember this: it’s okay to have mixed emotions. Time will continue to march on, and we must continue to pivot. Make mistakes, feel your feelings, and know the good things won’t end here. On their best days and worst days, whether they are 5 or 35, you are and always will be their mama.
by Sarah Lango 
