
This is Sammy on his first day of preschool. His backpack was chock full of...stuff (extra underwear and shirts, stuffed animals, Leap pad, water torpedo)...anything, really, that one might need on the first day of preschool.

I think this stance says "I'm just a little too cool. Oh, yeah."
But. All this brings me to my 'issue'. I think I'm one of those moms. We've been in school now for about two weeks, and I'm still hovering. In my head I know I need to give my kids a little shove out of the nest--they certainly have no problem with separation, but it's...me. I still (with the two boys in tow) linger on the playground until the morning bell rings. My heart actually constricts as I watch my tiny, 39 lb First Grader navigate a playground full of gigantor 6th graders. I tear up when I see her find a group of fellow tiny friends, hugging and chatting very excitedly about whatever first grade girls chat about. I should leave at this point, I know. But I stand there mesmerized until the bell rings and I follow at a respectable distance as she walks with her little friends to line up at the classroom door. She watches me from the corner of her eye, and still blows me kisses before I go. I, again, should leave at this point, but I kind of hide behind the shrubbery, making sure that she makes it the two feet from the line to the door.
First grade is something new. It's like the beginning of the end. She will now spend less awake time with me than with someone else, and it's hard to wrap my mind around that. My overly dramatic imagination grieves at the idea of being separated, and when I forecast it out to letting go of her at wedding time...it doesn't bode well. For her and her groom, in particular. I've clearly established the benefits (financial and otherwise) of her growing up and living close by. I think she's sold.
Some parents, I know, are all too eager to kick their kids out the door and onto the school bus. I wish I could be a little more like that. But, luckily for me, we live out of bounds, so I get to drive her there every morning, and see her just a little longer.
I know I need therapy or something. Or at least I'm going to when she leaves for BYU. Or maybe I could just move to Provo... But, I digress. The point is, I'm one of those moms who can't let go so well. It makes my heart hurt.
Then again, I'm sitting here, both older kids gone and Little Buddy down for a nap, and, I'll be honest, I'm enjoying the silence.