It happened yesterday, a blue-cold January day. Everyone else was grumbling about waking up early and going back to the grind, but in our house the air was charged with something special. Yesterday, the J-man began his long journey to learned-personhood.
Standing there, just as proud as he could be in his khakis and blue school shirt, he didn't look like a two-year-old. He looked like a little man, as if he would start talking about amortization schedules, or abstract algebra, or constitutional law. Instead, he jabbered on about his blue truck, which surprised the heck out of me.
We reminded Miss-Miss and Bubba that that first day would be difficult for J-man, that they would need to comfort him, let him know he was not alone, and to hug him if he cried. After breakfast, Bubba grabbed J-man in a bear hug and shouted* I'm gonna take care of J-man 'cause he's my wittle bruver!
Tears, people. Big, fat, slurpy crocodile tears.
There were a few last-minute instructions, such as Don't forget your gloves are in your pockets. and Your red folder is in your backpack. and Be nice to your schoolmates. Don't take things from them. I was just jabbering to keep the tears at bay.
Time for one last pose.
Independent, no one holding his hand, my little boy walked into his first day at school...
... where he met a Montessori teacher who loves all her kids more than life itself.
I cried tears of sadness for time quickly passed and tears of pride for raising such a wonderful little boy. My mornings alone with him will be missed, but I know we're on our way to something greater with this first small step.
Now, what the heck am I going to do for four hours every morning?**
*Bless his heart, Bubba has no volume control.
**BTW, he did wonderfully, crying only twice, impressing Miss Denise with his knowledge of many Montessori skills. Yup, proud Mama.