Our second child started preschool last month. It seems like it was just yesterday when I gave birth to him. All 9 lbs 2 oz of him. And here we are, he is off to learn more about life and the world out there. Time really does fly by fast.
Based on our experience with our first child, the Hunk and I braced ourselves for the possibilities. We planned it out - taking turns to drop him off at school for the first few weeks.
We learned from our first-born that the removal from the all-too-familiar family cocoon can be difficult for a child. That there is some level of adjustment necessary, i.e., they will cry for Mommy and Daddy the first few weeks.
We were ready. Armed with a schedule and prior notice to our respective bosses that we might be coming in a bit later than usual in case of a meltdown, we took it on.
We drove to the school, parked our car, and walked to the classroom. The teacher greeted us at the door, and instructed our son on where to put his backpack. I was watching him closely looking for signs of distress. Something. Anything.
I stayed put for the next few minutes waiting for the ...."Wahhhhhh.....I want my Mommy!"
But guess what? My baby gave Mommy a kiss and hug, and went straight to the train table. No crying, no whining. He even looked my way as I was walking out and smiled as if to say, "It's OK Mom, I'm good. It'll be all right."
True to form, I was as teary-eyed. I will not admit to crying on the way to work like I did with our first-born.
Hey, Little Man, just for the record, you will always be my baby. Mine alone.
Labels: not so little things