Our #5, Sweet Pea, began her first year of school today as a full-time Kindergartner. She has been asking, "when does school start?" since January.
After a lecture to her siblings having to do with acknowledging Sweet Pea during school hours (give her a wave or a smile or even play with her at recess), everyone paused long enough to stand for a picture (in birth order I might add!)
I watched this small child of mine, walk confidently into the school, hang up her backpack and find her seat, with little more than a flash of a smile over her shoulder towards me.
I tried to stay out of the way as her teacher explained a few things to her.
Sweet Pea's teacher walked away, yet I remained. Why do I find it so difficult to leave each of my children on their first day of school? I know they are in very capable hands, and yet, a great emotion stirs within me each time. They're excited. I'm excited. But there is that little piece of surrender that gets me every time.
A lump formed in my throat and I figured I better see myself out before I erupted into an ugly cry. I gave my little girl a long hug and hung on longer than I normally do.
I counted the hours today, until I could pick up my Love Bugs. This is how I was greeted in the parking lot - big smiles and even bigger hugs and the reassurance that Sweet Pea wants to go back tomorrow.
Her work sheet above says it all.