I truly cannot believe I'm writing this post. Didn't I just write about Delphinium's delivery sometime last week? Apparently not because now she's off to school at the ripe old age of two and a half. We wanted her to continue to play with other children even though I won't be able to do a mommy and me class with her this year, so school seemed like a good choice. Thus we found ourselves, one bright September morning, walking her in to her first day.
We'd already been several times to check things out and meet the teachers, but this was the first time I would be leaving her. She suddenly looked very small to me even though she was wearing her most grown up jeans, pink plaid button-down, and pigtails. Luckily SHE had no reservations about where we were or what was about to happen. There were kids! There were toys! There were farm animals! There was the promise of snack! What's not to love? I had to call her back to say goodbye. No tears were shed on either side. That's good right?
I took myself off to the grocery store trying not to let the sense of dislocation impact my driving. Then spent the next hour staring at the shelves and finding it extremely hard to make choices. When I picked her up again, she was a little shell-shocked by all the stimulation, but still happy and excited. She told me all about snack (blueberry bar!) and the other kids (what they names?) and the real live parrot (he say "Wow!" to me). She absolutely wanted to go back and do it all again soon. Here I am left with this odd combination of pride at her success, happiness for her happiness, and sorrow for what is gone. Strange times indeed. Maybe I need to throw a tiny infant into the mix just to keep things interesting.