I'm almost an empty-nester

Yup, it's actually happened: Kelcey has started kindergarten.  She had her first "staggered entry" day last week, where only a few kids from each class attend so that the teacher can get to know them individually, and get all the assessments done (such as, do they know their letters, numbers, colors, etc.).  She knew all that stuff a long time ago, and we'd been reviewing the last few days, so I hope it went well.

Better than mine, at least.

My mother taught me how to read when I was two, which is less a comment on the fact that I was a gifted child, and more a reveal into how fantastically and incredibly AWESOME my mother is.  So, by the time I was in kindergarten, reading was normal.  It was just something that I did all the time.  I don't remember a time when I couldn't read.

Anyway, when I got to kindergarten for my assessment, according to my mom, I was so irritated that they were asking me what the letters and numbers were, stuff that I had known forever, that I just clammed up, and refused to answer any of their questions.

So, apparently they thought I was somewhat backwards, and put me into a remedial program until my mother figured out what was going on, explained the problem, and convinced me to read for my teacher.

Which just goes to show you...actually, what, I'm not exactly sure--that you shouldn't cross someone off your "people with potential" list, because they might have talents that they are keeping hidden?, that public school education is somewhat inadequate?, or that I shouldn't cause problems for myself just because I think that the people around me are acting like idiots?  Pick any of those as your favorite moral and run with it.  :o)

Oh, and I guess I should have said that I feel like an empty-nester.  Because I still have Ben at home with me, but without Kelcey it feels so quiet.   I've always maintained that having just one child is pretty much the same as being alone, and it's totally true. 

Maybe if Ben was older, it might be different, but I find myself forgetting about lunch time, because Kelcey isn't there telling me she's hungry.  And when Ben goes up to play in the playroom I don't hear any of the regular noises of two kids playing together, and occasionally fighting together.  It's just pretty quiet.

Ben misses her too.  Yesterday he would be playing or walking around, and, out of the blue, he'd say, "Kelcey gone?  Kelcey school?"  And I'd agree that she was at school, but remind him that all the kids were coming home soon (ish).  He actually might miss her more than I do, because they played together so much, and she was so good about doing things with him.

It's only been two days of school so far, and I know that I will get a routine again with Ben and me (part of the problem is that I've been housebound while Jeff's car is in the shop)  but right now I miss having someone at home that I could really have a conversation with.  Yeah, ok, maybe not a deep philosophical discussion, but a conversation nonetheless.  I admit that I'm wallowing in it, just a little bit, but, you guys, it's the end of an era!  (2 points to whomever knows that TV show quote)

I guess I should be glad that I only have one child at home, making shopping, etc., much easier, but right now I'm just sad.  I only cried once yesterday, and it's getting better, but today I'm sad. 

Ok, bright side: isn't it great that I have kids that I actually miss?