“I’m right here,” I assured him with a bright smile, ready to be there all day to comfort him in this new place.
“I thought I was coming alone today,” he said, confused.
So that was it. He was ready for preschool and let me know it in no uncertain terms. I saw this would be an easy goodbye and hugged and kissed him. As I turned for one last look, he gave me only a quick backwards wave as he turned to go find something to play with. Wow, that was easy. For him! I went to the car, bravely, and then collapsed into a heap of sobs. And from that day on my oldest son has pretty much always loved school.
Well, as of today, I guess I’ve had almost 18 years to prepare for this fall, but nonetheless, as my now senior boy dances around to what he calls “morning pump-up music,” while getting ready for school and driving his siblings to school, I sit there, not sure what to do. Sure, I have work to go to, my mornings are different now. My kids simply don’t need me in the same way they once did. It’s clear that I need to change my own perspective and figure out how they do need me. It’s certainly not to hang their jackets and backpacks on their assigned hooks. Those days are long gone.