There I stood, same usual place and time to wave goodbye to Daddy, but today it was different. It was so quiet that I could hear the morning runners’ feet pad the sidewalk. As I looked out, your two tiny faces were craning to wave to me from the backseat squished with a princess backpack, nap mats, lunch boxes and a “nigh-men-men-keen” (lightening McQueen) backpack. It’s the first day of school. I held back a tear and showed my best smile and mouthed I love you.
Emily you’re a lucky girl. All the 8th graders at your school (classmates of Aunt Teresa) practically shove through a crowd to yell hello and ask for a hug. You love all the extra attention, and pride yourself in being your teacher’s “good helper girl” since you know the drill from last year. For the past couple weeks, you’ve awakened with the squeaky yet raspy voice of a 4 year old asking “today, mama? Can I go to school today?” You’ve had your uniform set out for weeks, have been planning to spend lots of time in the home center and hoping the boys don’t take over the block center like last year. I can’t wait to hear all about your new friends and what new tattle tales you’re excited to tell me.
Leo you‘re a lucky boy too. “Pe-NA, mommy? Fwiens?” Yes, Leo, you’ll have a blast with Mrs. Pena and your friends. At the meet the teacher day, without any prompting from me, you marched straight up to your teacher and said Hi Pe-Na with a big hug. She already loved you and couldn’t wait to meet the nephew of her former students. You went from 2 yr old to 2 yr old waving, hugging, saying hi. I knew from that moment that I just have to stand back and marvel at all you can bring to the world. Mr. Independent--not afraid of being curious, sensitive, generous, rambunctious. This morning you’ll insist on buckling your carseat all by yourself and carrying your very own big and heavy backpack. I can’t wait to see you grow up to be a boy full of character, but for today (and everyday until the new baby is born), you’re still my sweet baby boy.
I love you,
Mommy
