School bells and the single mom

Well, it's official. My son has started school. (Insert weeping here.)



Actually, it all went very smoothly. He was a little emotional yesterday morning before we left the house -- wanting to cling to the lovie he sometimes sleeps with and bursting into inordinate tears when I asked him to leave the lovie in his room. (This is something he doesn't even remember to sleep with many nights and never brings downstairs, so this emotional show was certainly out of the ordinary.)



Once we got in the car and headed for school, though, he seemed fine -- no random displays of overwrought emotion or anything. When we got there, he was still cool.



The only small sign of trepidation was when an older student, one who'd been assigned the duty of helping the new kindergartners find their way, approached us at the door and asked if he wanted her to walk him to his class. He hugged tightly close to my arm and simply pointed at me as if to say, "No, I want her to go."



Once we got where he was supposed to be, though, he was totally fine with my depositing him there and walking away.



I confess I shed a few discreet tears in my car, but even I handled it better than I expected.



And when I picked him up that afternoon, he was in a perfectly good mood and chatted about the picture he had colored of a tree and how he had chopped it down with an axe and it had made a "chink" and then a "thud" sound (yeah, he gets descriptive).


This morning, he was the picture of "I know what I'm doing and don't need your help" cool. We pulled in front of the school, and he hopped right out and headed for the door with a little wave back to me.


Part of me is bursting with pride that he's going to school and handling it well and ready to embark on his own. The other part of me -- and I'm working to silence her for the good of my son, I promise -- hates that he's growing out of the need for me. I know that's an exaggeration; I know he'll need me for many things for much longer. Hell, I still need my mom for a lot of things and I'm 3-- well, grown up.

(Getting in the car yesterday morning to head to school.)

(Actually arriving at school.)