I knew how it was going to go down. I had prepared myself weeks in advance.
There would be tears and there would be tantrums, and if it was anything like last year his teacher would peel him from my legs and restrain my kicking and screaming son while I left.
I would walk down the hall to the sound of his cries, choking back tears of my own.
"He'll be fine," I would tell myself.
I knew he would be.
But that's not how it happened.
We walked him to his classroom and helped him hang up his backpack and find his cubby. Nathan (who I had begged to take the day off, "just in case"!) held Topher's hand as he spun around us in circles.
Then it was time.
We each gave him a hug and a kiss, squished together for one last family hug -
And that was it.
Topher ran off to line up with his class.
With one final wave, he was gone.
Off to kindergarten.
Just a brave little boy, ready to face the adventure of growing up.
I was surprised - and a little bit saddened! - by his independence ...
But isn't that what we want for our kids?
When I strapped Ellie into her carseat I heard a little sniffle. "Are you okay?" I asked, peering into her face. Through the shadows I saw a single tear trickle down her cheek. "I miss Topher," was her wobbly response.
Me too, babe. Me too.