The local preschool lottery is opening up, which seems past where we should be but here we are. My local district has preschool available for free, for those students who need services and for those who can win the lucky spot in the lottery. While my littlest one does have a little bit of a speech delay that seems to be getting better every day, my hope is the lottery so that I can finally go back into an office with real adults and have conversations that go beyond “No, you cannot ride Arya like a horse”, “Is that grilled cheese and yogurt yummy?” and singing the Bluey theme and listening to Encanto and Moana music all day long. With dashes of Pidey Len, shooting her webs to prevent the dogs from eating her “(s)nackies”.

It happened so fast. While I’m excited for this new stage of our last child’s life, my husband and oldest son (who’s 22 now) are in denial of the fact 3 is coming up in a few short months. I’m sure tears will be shed by the men of the family. Us Malloy girls though, we’re a breed of our own for sure. Full of assertiveness, sass, and intelligence; we’re in a league of strong women. They boys might not be ready for it. In fact, I’m not entirely sure the preschool will be ready for this ball of energy. But, it’s time.

Not every school district is lucky to have free offerings. Some are luckier and don’t have to play their hand at winning a lottery. (A post for another day, I’m sure.) I was never much of a winner anyways, but here’s to hoping. Preschool will be a mutually beneficial endeavor for us. Len will get socialization from actual kids her age, which will significantly help her speech. It will help her learn and grow and it will be great. I get to go back into an adult world where sweatpants or pajamas at work daily is not acceptable. (Which is probably the biggest thing I will miss working from home.)

It’s helpful to focus on the positives. It’s sad to see your last child go through all these “last” firsts. It’s sad to remember how fast it goes. How one minute you’re singing to them in your belly to being mostly asleep when feeding them and not remembering any of it. To those last first steps and that last first words. But every milestone is a blessing. And you are helping this child grow into an amazing adult that will have their own little or big impact on the world. That makes any of the sadness worth it, I think.