We are one month into Preschool and I think it’s going pretty well. We still have a few meltdowns here and there, but now that Reeve knows all the kids in his class and I can talk about looking forward to seeing them, he’s doing a lot better.
That first day was a rough one….for me, that is.
All I could think about as I waited in the parking lot to pick you up from school was how I couldn’t wait to lie down with him for his nap and rub his back. Then, I started thinking about how I used to nurse him then rock him and how, if time keeps moving this fast, I’ll be putting the plaid flannel sheets on his Fresman dorm bed soon…and then….meeting the woman who is going to fall asleep next to him each night counting the eyelashes of the man who was once my boy. And instead of your small little shoulders and scabby knees he will have whiskers and calluses and I started crying!
I was just a bit emotional that day so just forgive me already!
It was, by no means, the longest amount of time I’ve spent apart from him yet I ached for his compact little body. That moment when he’d see me outside the door of his first-ever classroom and run into my arms. Hot breath, sticky hands on my neck. Excitedly he’d said “Mama, Mama!” then proceeded to tell me to “Go Away.”
So brave. So independent.
And now here it is a month later….school pictures complete, the Lesson on Letter A is nearing an end. You know about seasons and talk about God a lot now. You know all your classmates and are getting better every day about going to the Potty.
To say I’m proud of my boy is an understatement…
I just get so excited (and nervous) thinking about the years ahead and school and the decisions our family will have to make.
Here’s to the Letter B and artwork with 1 color scribbled everywhere. Here’s to coming home with everything except your carrots eaten and pea gravel in your shoes. I welcome more stories that aren’t quite true and that moment, each day, when you see me squatting down outside your classroom and your eyes light up.