Well friends it’s official, it’s the end of an era in for our family.
Today our youngest daughter graduated senior kindergarten, from now on both our girls will be in school full time.
Back on June 1st I wrote a post about this momentous occasion, titled simply Graduation.
I’m certain that you are all keenly aware that many graduations are taking place around the world; you just have to open up your Facebook and you’ll see the status updates and photos.
To all of those people celebrating I say congrats, the graduation ceremony is a serious marker. One which reflects your efforts, dreams and desires. That big day means so much to many of us.
I can distinctly recall beginning to prepare for my Grade 8 graduation in the month of February. Immediately following my birthday, I began to read the magazines (we didn’t have Internet…groan) and peruse the styles of dresses and hair.
One would think I could have come up with a better look than I did. Apparently I was convinced that the ultra shiny white eyeshadow, lace mock gloves and silver choker were the height of fashion.
Oh to be able to speak to my younger, fashion challenged self.
I’m apologizing in advance to the girls with me in the photo, but it’s not like I’m tagging you all.
My high school grad was a huge deal for me but our school didn’t actually have a ceremony to hand out diplomas until September.
By September I wasn’t bothered attending the Commencement ceremony, the way I saw at the time, I’d done the important part; I had attended the prom!!!
Yes my friends, the prom was far more important to me than the fact that I’d successfully completed my high school education. In my priority list those days wearing a cap and gown ranked far below dressing up and hanging with my friends.
My saving grace was that my fashion sense had improved and although I don’t have a photo of myself in the robe, I do have this smashing shot of my sexy, young self to gaze at admiringly.
That was probably the healthiest and fittest I’ve ever been and I am awfully glad to have this photo, even with the Debbie Gibson hair.
The time came this morning with my 5 year old daughter, where she exerted her independence. With only 10 minutes to get dressed she had a complete and utter meltdown because she didn’t like the dress we had chosen for her to wear.
Instinctively I wanted to scream in frustration; we’d spend much too long choosing the wee summer dress and we didn’t have time for a DIVA like fit.
There I stood staring at my daughter displaying behavior shockingly like the girl in The Exorcist. My head was about to explode and that post of mine came into my mind. Instantly I was ticked at myself for writing it because it deflated my anger and had me tearing up like the softy that I am.
Right as she’s yelling and flailing her arms as only our Miss Chelsea can, I wrapped my arms around her and began talking about how she used to go to the school doors and cry when we took her sister to school. I told her how little she looked on her very first day of school, how brave she was at 3 years old. I shared with her how proud I am of her and who she is becoming and how I want time to slow down some days.
In that moment I slowed time and surrounded us with our love.
And then I allowed my darling, independent, fashion-challenged 5 year old to choose her own outfit.
She looked beautiful.
Way to go Miss Chelsea Belle, we’re so proud of you.
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