a new day...some crying was involved

Yesterday we were all up at the crack of dawn for the first day of school.
For the older boys this is old hat.
Just another year of school to conquer and tuck away
in the pursuit of someday actually getting out of school.
Jack has informed me that doesn't intend to go to college.
He will be joining the work force as a pizza delivery guy.
The love of hot cheese and spicy pepperoni calls to him.
Either that, he said, or maybe he will go to Stanford.
Because clearly if he is not delivering pies,
Stanford should be his next choice.
Will was reluctant to get out of bed.
He still has summer in his eyes.
If only there could be one more day of swimming and cousins
before launching into class rules and homework.
For Will there is never enough play, enough running,
enough recess.
Sitting at a desk wears him out.
But for Addison, yesterday was a first.
The first day of kindergarten.
And it was a first for me.
The first day when all 3 of my boys would be in school.
Let's just say, that when I pulled Addie out from under the covers
I was already teary.
Because in my heart, Addie still looks like this.

He's a baby. Finger in his mouth. Sleepy eyes.
Leaning into me for a little comfort and a snuggle.
But this morning Addie looked like this.

He's big. He has clearly out grown my lap.
Lucky for me, he is still down with snuggling.
He wore his dress uniform and shouldered his backpack with pride.
Lining up for class was a little sobering,
but he was stoic. Ready for his new adventure of
pencil boxes and lined paper and counting numbers.

And as they filed into class, we waved. And lingered.
There was a whole brood of kindergarten parents pressed around the door.
Trying to get one last peek at them.
Mre. Brien, the kindergarten teacher, finally had to close the door.
And that's when the crying starting.
My crying, that is. Not Addie. He was fine.
Scott and I got to the van and I put my head on his shoulder
and bawled.
Because he is so ready. So ready. And I was so proud.
And a little bit sad that the season of little ones at home
with me is gone.
Scott reminded me, "Sue, you have been working at the preschool all year.
He really wasn't home with you that much."
This produced more tears.
"But I was with him at school."
Clearly, Scott should know logic is not going to win this battle.
This is all about a mom mourning a season that is passing.
Give me a week and I will be down with it, I promise.
I'll be thrilled and overjoyed with the prospect of moments
to myself.
But some moments just require a good solid cry.
A marker that says, "This has been a good chunk of my life.
It is shifting and changing. And I am happy for it but
sweet mercy, it sure went by fast,and I will miss it."
Lucky for me, I have at least 8 years before the Jack treks
off to the Pizza Academy or Stanford.
Scott better start preparing himself now.
It's not going to be pretty.