Tuesday, August 26, 2014

A day of Firsts

Today was the first day of kindergarten for our eldest and the first day of the final class-step for Caroline at daycare. We've been talking it up for weeks, thinking this would be a tough transition for everyone.  J, sis, and Sam have been the Three Amigos their entire lives. They wake, eat, school, bathe, play, and sleep together. I was expecting the split to be on par with the breakup of The Beatles.  Especially after I announced Caroline would be changing rooms to have a single instead of sharing with her oldest brother and was promptly confronted with a pleading Caroline *and* Jack asking to "stay together until we turn 15." 

So we had a weekend of special treats, Costco trips to pick out fun lunch snacks, ceremonious packing of bookbags and snack totes, and even new clothes to help all feel special on this momentous day.  I even found Jack completely dressed for school around 11pm the night before because "I just wanted to be sure there was enough time in the morning to get everything done."  

I fully anticipated this morning to be heavy and full.  I could not have been more surprised.

All babes woke happy and helpful.  Jack kept to his promise and got (re)dressed, washed, bed-made, and fed on his own without direction. Caroline happily got dressed and Sam didn't empty the contents of his snackbag on the floor for a quick crunchy dance with the dog. 

We all walked hand in hand to the patio door at school.  Jackson gave hugs and flew through the school doors without a second look.  And the Littles let. him. go.  There was no crying or screaming or whining or clinging.  Angels didn't come down from the heavens with trumpets and trees didn't catch fire.  We almost even forgot to get out of our camera at all. 

I thought I would be overwhelmed with emotion.  I thought I would tear up and linger too long and have a hard time driving away.  But, just like so many other times in this parenting adventure when I have been proven utterly wrong (see potty training), I didn't.  I've been dropping Jack off at "school" since he was 8wks old so maybe that's why today didn't feel so momentous.  Or maybe it was the distracting chaos that still clung to each of my hands after I lost site of him through the double doors.  Or maybe it was how ready and calm he was to start this next chapter in his life.  Or maybe, and more likely, it just hasn't hit me yet.  Time has a funny way of lulling one into a distracted daze.  Maybe that isn't a bad thing.  Maybe that's the way we Mommas cope.

March on into the adventurous wonderful world, my sweet little ones.

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