My little man is at school at this moment, maybe clinging to the doorway, or maybe participating happily in circle time, but either way, his world just got bigger, and a bigger world means more opportunities for growth. He'll be home before noon, and I will smother him with kisses, and I have nothing but faith that someday, soon, he'll be able to tell me all about his day.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you'll know that I sent my son to his first day of preschool this morning. What you won't know is that I'm now sitting in my empty house, sort of enjoying the quiet. This doesn't mean I didn't get weepy when we stood at the curb together, facing the sun, holding his tiny, warm hand, waiting anxiously for that little yellow bus to round the corner. It doesn't mean that I didn't swallow a giant tear when he looked up at me with those big brown eyes, almost golden in the morning light, and whispered, "My bus!" as he saw its approaching shadow heading down our quiet street. And of course I made a squishy mom frown-smile when his Buzz Lightyear backpack, packed with a change of clothes, a bag of diapers, and, at his request, an apple for his teacher, made him teeter off balance as he took his first big step up the stairs and towards Mary, the nicest bus driver in the world. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that, as soon as I saw he was safely on board, and I waved a half-dozen times at the cowlick I recognized peeking up over the bottom of the bus window, and I could no longer make out even a glimpse of yellow, I walked up to my door with a sense of relief.
Posted by Renee at 8:43 AM