It's Like Preschool In Real Life
August 25, 2008
This is what you looked like on your first day of school.
I had a different outfit picked out for you, but our dryer mysteriously broke in the night. So you wore this. Your school required closed-toe shoes, but I forgot to make sure your sneakers still fit. So they were a little tight. I'm sorry.
I combed your hair. You thought we were going to visit Nana and Pop Pop, probably because that's the only time I ever comb your hair.
You liked your Thomas the Tank Engine backpack but would not wear it. You asked to stay home. I wanted to let you stay home. I wanted to ask when you got so big, so smart, so preschooler. Then you asked to get in the green car and go to school. So we did.
You were a little nervous, but you did not cry. You left Pinky Dinky Doo and Baby Brother's Piano in the car -- they're in there now, waiting for you. You asked Daddy to carry you in, and he did. We forgot to bring the camera. There was a pretty little girl named Paige in your classroom when we got there, and when we said goodbye you were both exploring a little toy kitchen, preparing to make breakfast. You did not cry, but Mama did, a little.
It's different now. And it will be different all over again, once Baby Brother is born. I'm glad you'll have school and friends and things to do. But for now, as silly as it may be -- three hours! it's just three hours! -- I miss you, little man. I'll miss our days and mornings of Just Us, Just Doing Whatever We Want. It's been you and me, all day, every day, and it's hard to give that up. It's been a delight and a privilege to spend this time with you, Noah, and I'm proud of the boy I sent off to school this morning.
Your Ridiculous Mother Who Will Pick You Up In 20 Damn Minutes
PS. This is what you looked like when you came home from your first day of school.